Sword Saint
by The Lord Of The Words
Summary: The telling of unfolding events through the eyes of Gorion's infamous ward, fighting against the 5 strongest Bhaalspawn. Full of fun encounters, vicious battles, and perhaps even love. Heroics and honor live in this telling of a great swordsman.
1. The Hunt

Sword Saint

**Chapter 1: **The Hunt

The trees gathered in the deepest part of the forest were magnificent, tall and lush, towering symbols of vitality and peace. The borders of the sacred forest, guarded and watched over by mythical spirits, elves, and other woodland creatures, ready and willing to repel any malevolent intruders that dare trod upon such blessed ground.

And yet, there _was_ one such interloper in this hallowed forest. It was slipping amongst the brush and huge tree trunks like a shadow, sniffing like a hound, examining the bark of ancient trees as well as the lesser undergrowth for signs of activity. But this trespasser was not alone. No, half a dozen more followed, being far less inconspicuous about traversing such difficult terrain; crushing the brush nosily, stumbling over unseen rocks and roots, cursing and grumbling all the while.

These were men, grungy and menacing looking men, all having narrowed eyes, dark hair, and no knowledge whatsoever about proper dental hygiene. Garbed in heavy battle armor, wielding long and sharp weapons, they looked fierce and well-accustomed to fighting. However, they had great displeasure from tramping about in this maze of woodlands. The sky overhead was dark, thunder grumbling, a foretelling of the rain that promised to come. Because of this, the forest was even damper and humid, making these men sweat greatly, much to their increased discomfort.

But their leader was not the same. First and foremost, not a man. A woman; a lithe and agile woman, unhindered and unbothered by the atmospheric conditions, leading this pack of warriors through the trees towards some unknown goal. And she had a far greater aura than those that trailed behind her. _Far_ greater. It was more sinister and threatening; a clouded shadow seemed to accompany her. And her presence was _far_ more brutal, her very steps, unheard though they were, left the earth trembling at her inner ferocity. This was of course displayed in her outward manner as well.

She would proceed quite a ways, waiting for those behind to catch up. When they did, she would always glower at them with a boiling stare which had one simple word written into her expression. Murder. And after a number of times of this advancing and waiting, she would bark at them, chastise them with her hissing voice.

"Move faster, you worthless cretins! If you don't walk quicker, then I shall peel the flesh of your miserable hides off your bones here and now and continue alone!"

"I'm sorry mistress," one soldier apologized, knowing full well that this was _not_ an ideal threat, "But these woods are guarded by the elves, and there are many traps and ward spells here…"

"_Do not_ lecture _me_ about traps and wards fool! You think I am unaware of those? I was conscious of them _long_ before you or your men! And I care not for your _heartbreaking_ excuses! Just hurry! I am certain that he will not remain here much longer. If we lose him now, when we are _so_ close…you _all_ shall suffer."

There was a collective gulp from the six men at this, a humorous sort of happening; though no one present dared laugh. They were far too concerned with the fact that their lives were teetering so close to oblivion. Not to mention currently questioning their own sanity about letting themselves be hired by such a baneful woman.

On and on they went, more time of traveling past, the trees showing no signs of ending; the vegetation surrounding them, almost closing in and swallowing up their tracks. Finally, after much scrutiny of the path ahead, the dark woman held up a hand, inhaling through her nose. And it seemed from her skin as well, her whole body was tense and ridged. Then…she smiled. Upon seeing this, the men shrank back, wondering if she was about the slay them.

"He's close…" was all she said, there being a note of pure pleasure in her voice. "Just ahead of us…Captain," she turned back to the men cowering at her heels. "Ready your men. It's time for you to collect my prize."

"Yes ma'am. Alright men! Let's go!" With a short huzzah from his fellows, the party of seven advanced again, on the lookout for their target. They had received a basic description, but nothing that could truly be considered accurate.

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From out of the brush they came at last, into a small clearing, there being a noticeable sense of relief from the soldiers. That forest had been making them all feel a bit claustrophobic, the cramped space nearly wringing their iron resolves from them.

This relaxed state did not last long however, as when they caught sight of a figure in the shadows ahead, they tensed up once more. Rain began to drip down from the sky, slowly, a bit stronger than drizzling, but not a full downpour…yet. The men flanked the woman, spreading out behind her in a line, she leading the way.

The figure in the clearing was a man; his back was to them, staring upward by the looks of it, towards the sky. He was strangely dressed, not wearing any visible armor. Rather, he was garbed in what could almost be deemed as robes, a loose fitting gown or cape, as black as shadows, the tails of it being pulled in the wind. On his back, protruding from the collar of this cloak was the handle of a large sword, the bottom of which nearly touched the ground under his booted feet. His face was not visible, but he had long gleaming ebony hair, tightly braided, reaching just past his shoulders.

The woman paused, and placed her hands on her hips, staring out, cocking her head at an angle, scrutinizing and sizing up his own unmistakable aura. At last she spoke, with a light softness, but with an evil undertone nonetheless.

"So…I have found you at last."


	2. Slayer of Bhaalspawn

**Chapter 2:** Slayer of Bhaalspawn

I heard the voice… "So, I have found you at last," and I knew that it was time. I had been told this from the ancient stone faces; their rhyming words had set me on edge. And the same time, made me question the mental normalcy of whoever it was who crafted them in the first place. To have them speak of dire events in rhymes of all things? I could _hardly_ take it serious. But when I had sensed a foul feeling in the wind, an unmistakable sense of approaching danger, I knew it was the truth.

"_The storm approaches,"_ they had said. Yes indeed. I'd been waiting for over an hour, sensing that presence, a corrupt and malevolent force drawing ever closer. And now, it had arrived, manifesting itself into this woman.

She had not come alone either; six men were behind her. Judging by their dress and armaments, I'd have to say a mercenary band, not unlike myself and groups I had been apart of in the past. Unlike my past traveling groups though, these man looked rather unremarkable, basic really, almost having the formulaic hired thug look.. However, while they were typical soldiers, their leader was most certainly not.

She was agile looking, wearing black armor, leather or its equivalency. A bow and a large quiver were strapped to her back, and a curved scimitar at her waist. She was covered in a dark cloak, her hood being drawn up, and yet…I _knew_ her face. I had seen it in the dreams. She was pale, almost vampire pale, with ruby red lips adding a splash of color to her otherwise pallid complexion, short raven hair that fell like a soft wave, and a pair of ember eyes, flickering out at me with malicious intent. And she was smiling…

"It was quite the bothersome chore to track you down in these god-forsaken woods…to many traps and guardian spirits for my liking. But here you are." Her voice was calm, light, but with the hiss of a dangerous creature, coiled and taunting. I heard her, but I did not react to her words. But I did. Or rather, I could feel my blood reacting. It snapped to attention, waking up after a dormant slumber. I didn't turn around.

"Aren't you curious about who I am?" she cooed, teasingly. After a moment more, I finally responded.

"Not even a little. The only thing that I am almost positive about is that you have come to fight me. Since you are a lady though, I would urge you to reconsider, as I don't _want_ to kill you."

"Oh my, how generous of you! Not very fitting for a Bhaalspawn. But you are mistaken…I have not come here to fight you. I am here to _kill_ you…and kill you I shall."

"And what exactly is your problem with me? Did I forget to leave you a tip at a tavern or something?"

"My _problem_ with you? Hah, I needn't speak of it to one who is moments from death. All you _do_ need to know is that I have been given the pleasure of ending your life. Perhaps I shall stuff your head, and mount it from my mantle, with all the other Bhaalspawn I've killed. Tempting, since you have been more fortunate than other; most of the Bhaalspawn that I've slain weren't nearly as handsome as you."

"You kill Bhaalspawn?" I echoed, "Well, you certainly are not the first to do so, and in a way it's not such a bad thing. Though I am willing to wager, judging from your squalid presence, that your intent is less than benevolent. But you have made a serious blunder in coming after _me_." Finally, I turned to face her. My face unflinching, my silver eyes narrowing, as I crossed my arms.

"The differences between me my weaker siblings run far deeper than mere appearance. Our abilities for example. You may have found those that are not even _aware_ of their own tarnished blood as easy marks, but I am not so easily destroyed. _I_ am no ordinary Bhaalspawn." At this, she gave a tittering laugh, the sort a snotty noblewoman would give off, almost snickering into their hands.

"I know this. But then…neither am I." She unshouldered her bow with a certain casualness, but didn't reach an arrow to fit on the string.

"Does that surprise you?" she inquired with a cocky smile, "That I, a spawn of Bhaal, a sibling to you and so many others, have been hunting and slaughtering my own kind?"

"No." And I meant it. The way I could feel the taint within me react, once more feeling the familiar churning and boiling…the feelings of murder rising within, she may as well have been waving a banner. "As I have already said, you are not the first Bhaalspawn I've encountered to do such things. Kind of unoriginal, isn't it? But I suppose that still leaves the question as to _why_…"  
"Hah, why indeed. It is because I have far more ambition than you do. Not all of us Bhaalspawn have been drifting across Faerun like mindless sheep, going where our whims take us. Like you, or our lesser sibling Imoen, or the countless number of cowardly fools who share Bhaal's blood. Some of us have _far_ greater designs and objectives."

"Imoen…" I murmured, thinking back. The quirky young girl at Candlekeep had seemed like a little sister to me, long before I even knew that she was in fact, just that. She had always been cheerful and upbeat about everything, joking and making light of the most hopeless of situations. It had been impossible for me to even tell that she was the same as me. As our brother Sarevok. But after the ordeal with Irenicus…

My enemy must have noticed my expression.

"Still carrying feeling's for our baby sister? After the tampering the two of you went through by that unhinged mage, it's a wonder you managed to reclaim your soul at all. But Imoen…It seems that she didn't have _your_ strength. Did she?"

"Do not mock her," I ordered, my voice growing quiet, menacing, my temper flaring, "She managed to keep the essence of Bhaal locked away so tightly, that she didn't even seem to be one of us. We should all be so fortunate as that."

"Truly? So that we all may die at the hands of someone who is far greater than us?"

"Alright, that's it. I've listened to you morbid words for too long already. I'm giving you and your cronies this one and final opportunity to leave unscathed." Neither she nor her lackey's made any move to flee. From under the hood, her clever smile grew wider.

"A generous offer that I will refuse. There is much to do in the coming days. The time of Alaundo's prophecy is upon us; surely even you have heard of the exploits of myself and the rest? Even here, deep in your woodland sanctuary, mired in your own seclusion. A time of greatness is here, and your part to play is your death. It is necessary." She fitted an arrow and the men behind her tensed, waiting for the command to attack. It was close at hand.

"It has already been decided brother. Your fate is to be sealed by me. I am Illasera the Quick, Child of Bhaal, and it is I who shall slay you here and now. You cannot resist us." I shrugged, advancing a step or two. But I didn't draw my sword. Not yet.

"And I, foolish sister, have no choice but to fight and destroy you. For I am Dietrich the Blade, Child of Bhaal," I wasn't _really_ called that, but I felt like saying something intimidating to show that I wasn't afraid, "And I _can_ and _shall_ resist you and any other of our sibling's fanatical enough to believe that this senseless slaughter is by any means _necessary_. And you are all fools to think otherwise." Now she was the one who shrugged.

"We shall see."


	3. Blademaster

**Chapter 3:** Blademaster

Silence fell between us, as there was no need to speak anymore. We had both had said our piece, quarreling brother and sister, and now the time for words was at an end. It was time for violence. Not surprising, considering who we were. Illasera drew back the bow, and aimed it at my head.

"Time for you to die, little Bhaalspawn," and she let fly the arrow. I watched it approach, hardly flinching. When one fires a projectile at me, be it an arrow, crossbow bolt or what have you, the only sure way for it to strike home is if my back is turned and my thoughts are elsewhere. But if my attention is wholly focused on its advance than it is a wasted effort. And this surprisingly had _nothing_ at all to do with me being a Bhaalspawn. This had to do with my own training as a warrior of my class.

She had aimed for my neck, ready to pierce my throat, unleashing a fountain of foul blood. Instead of letting it strike the mark, I leaned aside and watched it go whizzing past. Then I glanced at her. She flashed a wicked grin.

"The hard way I see…I _was_ planning on being a bit compassionate for a change and kill you with a single shot, but _you_ wish to be stubborn. So be it." She motioned to one of the men behind her. "You," she barked, "Kill him at once!" The man nodded, pulled out a two-handed battle-axe and came stampeding towards me with a deep throated battle yell. Again, I didn't move, merely watching his charge with fascination, noticing at least half a dozen things wrong with his footwork and his wild stance. At his approach, I took careful note of his weapon. Nicely made, but no enchantments. In other words, no danger to me.

He came up, bellowing aloud and made a savage swing at my neck. That seemed to be everyone's favorite target today. I must admit that my answer to this was very odd. I didn't block. I didn't dodge. I didn't even move a step. In fact, what I _did_ do was tilt my head to the side, giving him clearer access to the point of impact. And impact it did, with a thock.

But there was no gushing stream of blood. My severed head did not bounce to the ground nor was there a great long incision along my throat. Instead, the axe head began to crack a bit, and that was all. My neck remained unscathed. The warrior stood dumbfounded.

"My turn…"

I reached into my cloak and I felt the familiar grip of my sword on my belt. I drew it out hard with a ring of steel and a splitting thunderclap. I made a single sweeping arc and the mercenary was dead. A huge gash, shredding straight through the breastplate of his armor, appeared in a blur of motion, the skin beneath the now useless cuirass was torn open wide, there being a horrible dark wound of ragged burnt flesh across his chest. Crackling back and forth across the metal plates were visible tendrils of electricity, one of the many after-effects of my attack. He staggered backward, and fell to the ground with a clank, twitching only a time or two.

What I had pulled out was my katana, a very powerful one that I had acquired back in Amn. It glimmered with a dull red aura, the handle and even the blade being adorned with fine gems. In my hand, it seemed to hum with an inner energy, and it sang a thunderous song with each stroke. The Celestial Fury, a katana imbued with the power of lightning. A favorite weapon of mine.

The mercenaries now gave a tremble, seeing the lack of effect the blow to my neck had, as well as one of their own being so swiftly dispatched. Their leader however did not seem so scared.

"You have become even stronger than rumored," Illasera noted with light amusement, as if I was some infant puppy, who finally worked up the courage to bite. "I'd hazard a guess that regular weapons will no longer harm you." I shrugged.

"I managed to tap into some of my inner power during a period of…_self-reflection_ in Hell. It turned out to be quite an…enlightening trip." If she was surprised by what I said, she certainly didn't show it.

"You have seen Hell then? Impressive, as not many return from there. Though I certainly hope it was to your liking, because you shall be back again shortly." I scoffed, tapping the pommel of my sword with a finger as I continued to glare.

"So you say. But unless you intend to summon the courage to fight me yourself sister, instead of hurling these lackeys at me, then I wouldn't count on it. And even then…you against me? Your chances are slim."

"We shall find out." She began pulling out another arrow. "Captain, time for your men to earn their keep. Attack him together."

"But, are you…?" he stammered. She whipped her head around, to turn a stare so terrifying his way that stone would have melted under its hostility.

"Are you questioning _my_ order?"

"_NO_…uh, I mean…no ma'am. Just…uh…right. Men, attack from all sides! Go!"

And in a sprinting run, they came at me, spreading out. Three circled around to flank me, while the two largest came at me from the front. I waited and watched. In my style of fighting, I never rush; I always let my enemies make their own mistakes, and then strike. And the two frontal chargers made theirs _so_ obvious, that they were all but asking me to kill them. It would have been rude of me to refuse. And I can't tolerate rudeness.

My hand on the Celestial Fury tightened, and my other hand felt around and seized another sword hilt deep in my cloak. As they came, I drew my second sword and dashed forward, flashing past them, slipping far under their wild overhead swings, my blades trailing behind.

When I stopped, so did they. For a mere moment…nothing happened. Then in a blast of a thunderclap, one man's armor exploded open and was vaporized, along with a third of his body. The other received a deep slash into his torso with a most peculiar side effect. There was a cerulean glow around him, as his wound began to grow worse and worse, spreading across his stomach like an infestation, it becoming far more severe than the actual blow I landed. In moments, the soldier gurgled out blood, his whole right side looking corroded; like diseased rotten flesh, oozing clear viscous liquids and he fell. The man had been evil all right; clear enough as to how the injury had expanded.

This new weapon was different from the Celestial Fury. A long sword, of a deep sapphire color, and ancient design. Its handle was well-shaped, a large pommel jewel set in the hilt, and the blade was a most bizarre build. It had grooves and dips along the edges, perhaps serving some sort of function, or perchance merely for looks. But despite its appearance, its formidable power was not in question.

It had a unique enchantment, capable of making the injuries of the unjust all the more horrendous just by landing a blow. The sword of justice…The Equalizer. I had to search high and low across Amn to find the scattered pieces of the weapon, but I now knew that it had been worth every long hour of toil.

The moment of my assault and the death of two more of their comrades, the three from behind at once halted. They were afraid. And for good reason. I rose from my crouch, and turned a gaze as terrifying as any dragon's towards them. They shrank away, quivering in terror. And while my head was turned I could hear it…The drawing of the bowstring and the soft twang of it being fired. I counted in my head, waiting and waiting, until I merely leaned myself to the left, as yet another arrow went blazing past me. I cast an unamused look over my shoulder towards my sister.

"Aha," she commented with a smile, though it was noticeably smaller than her last one, "So _that_ is what you are…a Kensai."

"A what…?" one of the soldiers asked, still shaking.

"A Kensai. Also known as a Sword Saint or a blademaster. A warrior whose skill with the sword is unmatched. Understanding the mechanics of battle, their perception is _so_ sharpened by their training that their enemies appear to be moving sluggishly. Or so I have heard…I never expected for you to become so powerful brother. But it won't save you either…As now that I know _what_ you are; I know your _weakness_ as well. Your talents are impressive, but they leave you vulnerable. In order to master the blade to such a degree, you must stay unhindered. Meaning…you're not wearing _any_ armor under that robe…are you?"

Instead of answering, I removed the cape, tossing it aside. She was right, I didn't wear armor. I didn't really need to. All I wore under that was a pair of basic clothes; loose pants tied with a simple black belt, and a regular homespun shirt, with shortened sleeves. The material was loose and thin, giving my skin room to breathe; allowing me to fully harness the limits of my agility and dexterity.

"A dangerous habit. Not to protect yourself from others…Bold, and quite foolish. Captain! Cease your trembling and attack! If you don't _I_ will kill you instead!"


	4. Sibling Conflict

**Chapter 4: **Sibling Conflict

The mercenaries didn't charge. They merely inched forward, their weapons out in front of them, perhaps to use them as a ward to keep me at bay. I turned to face them, and took a few slow steps, deepening the depth to my glower. They flinched, looking moments away from running. I was sort of surprised that they didn't.

I knew it was risky, to turn my back on my sister, since she was a greater foe and therefore more dangerous than these men, but I wasn't worried. She couldn't fire an arrow…I'd hear it. If she drew her sword and charged…I'd feel it. There was nothing she could do that I couldn't handle. I thought.

I'll say it again; my victories in my adventuring career have made me rather arrogant. This time, it nearly cost me more than a few scrapes and cuts. I was advancing on the men when I saw a flash of light glowing behind me. Only then did I realize that in addition to her weapons, my wily sister had access to arcane spell-casting. I didn't even look. Looking takes time. I hit the dirt at once, adding yet another nock to the debt that I owed my instincts. That intuitive duck saved my bacon.

I caught a glimpse of something fast moving and very bright sizzling past my head, followed by screams of the three remaining mercenaries. These screams were cut off rather sharply, drowned out by the roar of scorching wind and a tree-shaking boom. I uncovered my head to witness a pillar of fire incinerating the mercenaries, they being melted alive. They had ceased their yelling as they burned away to nothing. Not even their bones were left. Close call. I hate wizards.

Speaking of whom, I cast a look over my shoulder once more.

Illasera was now looking at me with a much different expression. It was no longer a coy smile or even mirthful. Now she was channeling venom through her eyes, the seriousness of the situation had finally gotten through to her. She knew that this wasn't going to be easy.

"You have become strong Bhaalspawn. Stronger than I counted on…But no matter. Your power is no match for mine." Since she was now the only opponent left, I faced her once again.

"Keep telling yourself that. But we really won't know unless you cease your quivering and fight me yourself." That must have been a step too far. With a shout of rage, Illasera yanked her scimitar free, and rushed towards me, with a panicked yet calm charge, leaving far less gaps in her defenses then the men. I expected this, but when she ran at me her speed was _far_ faster than I had predicted, moving with a fantastic swiftness across the leaf-covered ground, closing with me rapidly. Illasera the Quick indeed. She was fierce and no weak opponent. I met her charge with a salute with my blades, and waited.

Her curved weapon came down with the fury of Bhaal himself, but my own guard was strong, and I pushed her away. Again she struck, and again I repelled her. She sliced at my torso, but I batted her aside. She tried to stab my face, but I stepped out of reach. She attempted to slice my legs out from under me, but she missed. On and on she went, swinging with full force, my two swords holding her at bay with no struggling. She kept hacking away, blow after blow, pivoting and twisting, trying to hit me. But she couldn't. I wasn't allowing it. It seemed to me that despite of her lack of progress in killing me, she apparently wouldn't accept defeat. Unless I showed her otherwise…

After backing off for a moment to regain her balance, she lunged for my midsection; her attacks becoming more and more frantic and less precise the angrier she got. It was torturous for me to watch, as her swordsmanship was coming to pieces right in front of me. As she made a motion to disarm my left hand, I lifted the Equalizer to hold her off, while I made the most casual and barest of flicks with the Celestial Fury.

Across her right thigh, a thin light slash appeared. The leather of her armor, the fabric of her clothes, and her bare flesh all split open before the ferocious cutting power of my sword. Blood splurted out along with the smell of burned skin. She yelled at the pain and leapt back in several large bounds, putting a good distance between us. Only then did she examine the injury I had inflicted.

Though it had been rather shallow of an attack and I had not swung with my full strength, it was still a grievous incision, cutting down deep into her muscle. I was actually surprised that she could still vault around like that. Like watching a wounded deer…

I advanced through the grass...

Hearing my footsteps on the dry leaves, her face jerked up at me, a new emotion breaking through her cold sinister eyes. Fear. She knew. There was _no_ way for her to win. After our bout, after all those savage attacks meant to hack me to ribbons, she was the one who was injured…not I. And she was breathing hard from the strain and exertion, and I wasn't. The gap in our skills was massive and undeniable, almost even painfully obvious. It was clear to her…she was going to die.

"_No!_ No, this _isn't_ possible! How have you become this powerful? It doesn't make any sense!"

I kept coming.

"Not true, it makes perfect sense…I have been doing _far_ _more_ than merely wandering about with no direction as you had so callously said. If you'd bothered to examine my hardships over the time I've been living abroad, you'd have seen that I've had a goal in mind all this time. Survival. I have been beset by killers, murderers, and beasts of every variety time and again, so much so that I think it would have been rather strange if I _hadn't_ gotten stronger. Since I haven't died at their hands, it should have dawned on you that these encounters have served only to make me more formidable. And they have, as you can clearly see. Not to mention that I have taken the essence of two of our siblings into myself. And let's not forget having my soul stolen from me. I have come face to face with the powers of my tainted blood so many times that I have gained a better understanding of it. A better grasp of…control."

I looked at her, and I felt a sneer rise to my lips.

"And what of _you_ sister? You, who have been _so_ busy exterminating our race, that you've never taken the time to peer inwards. You've never been in a situation where you've had _no choice_ but the face the essence of Bhaal within. And you seem surprised about our difference in strength? You really shouldn't be." I paused, and despite the situation, began to muse.

"Of course, this all _might_ be true, but an even simpler and more universal truth might suffice as well. I suppose when you get right down to it…" I reestablished my gaze with her, looking around the burning fury she was directing my way with a cocky little grin, "I'm just a better fighter that you are." At this, she spat at the ground and rose up again.

"I _have_ to kill you…_I will_." I shrugged, bringing my swords up. After taking a few careful breaths, she came in again, much calmer this time, trying to keep her weight off her right leg. She was holding back her rage, maintaining her control, so her attacks had recovered some of their exactness and accuracy. But I had already said it. I was better than she. I mean, I wasn't called a blademaster for nothing. The end of this was unavoidable. And I was getting very tired of staring into those heartless sneering eyes.

She whirled in a spiral, once more bringing her sword down at my neck. With the Celestial Fury, I parried her attack, and I raised the Equalizer. It arced from the ground up and with a simple slice; Illasera's right arm was severed just past the elbow.

She shrieked as thick blood began to pour from the stump attached to her shoulder; the magic of the sword burning what little remained with its chilling azure fire. Her arm and sword went spiraling away into the surrounding brush, leaving her…unarmed. The shock of the removal of her appendage was great; she staggered backwards, staring blindly at the stub, screaming over and over again, almost as if that would ease the pain.

"_DAMN YOU!"_ she howled, clawing at the air with her only remaining hand, _"DAMN YOU TO HELL BHAALSPAWN! I'LL KILL YOU!"_ And once more seized by raving madness, she lunged, her fingers straining out, no doubt going for my throat. Enough was enough. As she came close, I moved forward myself, making one final slash. We passed each other, now standing back to back. I heard a sickening gurgle, and a squirt. Followed by two thumps. Her body and…her head. I sighed, sorrowfully adding yet another unwanted notch onto my belt.

"Farewell sister. I shall see you again in Hell I suppose." I cleaned my blades of blood, and replaced them in the sheaths. I dislike the killing, but she had left me no choice. She hadn't struck me as someone who could take a hint. And if I hadn't finished it here, I would have staked my eyes that she'd have been back before long, with more soldiers to help her.

I didn't look back, but began to walk. I was rather unsure of what my next action should be, as to where I should go. I had little to go on, but since one Bhaalspawn hunter was after me, then there was a good bet more would be coming.

But before I could decide on a course, I felt woozy. My head began to spin, a white fire ripping through my mind, my vision dimming.

I managed to wonder if perhaps Illasera had managed to cast one last spell before she died, but the darkness thickened, and I…began to feel…heavy…


	5. Past Transgressions

**Note: A bit of info regarding the past. Most likely everyone who reads this already knows the events prior to this point, but still I felt that a bit of background would be beneficial. The actual story shall continue in the next chapter…**

**Chapter 5:** Past Transgressions…

My life hadn't always been like that. Fighting against thugs and half-gods that wanted me dead; that was something I only more recently began to do. Prior to that, my life was uncomplicated. Simple…happy. There is truth in the expression. Ignorance is bliss.

I was raised in Candlekeep for longer than I remembered. It seemed that I had _always_ been there, not remembering much else other than being a small boy in the care of my guardian, the kind wizened sage Gorion, my stepfather. I was never too sure of my life prior to that, such as my parents or where I was born, as Gorion had never really talked about such things.

I had been an incorrigible little scamp, getting into my fair share of troubles, playing pranks on the stuffy monks that resided in the library. I had some company, a girl by the name of Imoen, who seemed like a little sister, always tagging along, as cheerful as one could be.

I was raised by Gorion, taught many different things. I was never born to be a scholar though; I had too much energy for all the sitting still. I was drawn to combat, seeing some of the Watchers spar with one another. Eventually, I too took up training. Basic things, kids stuff really.

Using a quarterstaff as a fundamental weapon was the best I could do, as I was never allowed to use real weapons. I was always a bit huffy about that, saying I _wasn't_ a kid, that I could _handle_ it. The first time I took up a real sword, was the day my life altered permanently.

Gorion had been growing anxious about something, but had spoken little to me. Suddenly, he said that we were leaving Candlekeep. I had, of course, been outside the walls before, going fishing, a little hunting, outdoor stuff, but I'd never strayed too far. But now we were to go off on a journey.

And no sooner had we left, we were confronted by a hulking monster. A man in horrific black armor, demanding that Gorion relinquishes me to him, or else die. Gorion refused. I escaped the following battle, but Gorion did not, being slain by the terrible armored giant.

Things grew worse from there, as I soon had bounty hunters of all sorts coming after me, trying to kill me to claim a substantial reward for my head, that grew ever larger over time. Turns out, I had been thrust into the middle of a great and scandalous situation, involving lies, manipulation, and murder.

If not for several companions that joined with me, I might have been swallowed whole by the confusing matters. Like Khalid and Jaheira, two half-elf Harpers, who had been close friends to Gorion. And Imoen, who had followed me from Candlekeep.

Together we uncovered a devious plot that had to do with a shortage of iron along the Sword Coast. Things became clearer in Baldur's Gate, a great city, where all things pointed to someone named Sarevok, the beast of a man who had murdered Gorion. He had been behind everything. He had hoped to pit Baldur's Gate and the nation of Amn against each other, creating suspicion between the two, resulting in a bloody conflict. Not to mention, he had made plans to take control of Baldur's Gate by murdering the Grand Dukes.

It was around that time when I learned the cold truth, as to why Sarevok wanted me dead. After all, prior to the night Gorion died, I had never even met him. It was simple. We were brothers. And not just any brothers. We were both half-gods, creatures called Bhaalspawn, mortal offspring of the God of Murder Bhaal, who had ensured his own existence by spreading his taint throughout the land, in hopes of being resurrected.

I was a Child of Bhaal, and murder came naturally to me. I suspect that Jaheira and Khalid had known, but never mentioned it. I had been baffled about why Gorion had never told me of any of it. Sarevok wanted me, and every other Bhaalspawn dead so that he might ascend as the new Lord of Murder.

In any event, I learned about all of it, and vowed to put a stop to the madness. Sarevok had framed me for the murder of his own step-father, and I was hunted as a criminal. Thanks to some clever moves on my part, and careful maneuvering, we foiled _everything_. All his carefully laid plans fell apart when we showed the Duke's numerous incriminating papers that proved Sarevok's treachery. Despite his ruin, I wasn't quite done yet.

I had to settle the score. He had murdered Gorion and countless others, and still wished for my death. At that point, I couldn't really blame him. I had ruined him utterly, and now _he_ was the hunted criminal. Not that he didn't deserve it…We faced each other in an ancient temple of Bhaal beneath Baldur's Gate, with his few allies.

We fought, a long terrible battle, but I managed to kill my vicious half-brother, and send him down to Hell, to burn for his crimes. I was call a hero after that, the Savior of Baldur's Gate, and even, The Terror of the Sword Coast.

I wish I could say that was the end of all the bad things, but there is still far more. Literally, the story of my life. I was captured after defeating my brother, and was held by an insane necromancer named Jon Irenicus, who had plans for my divinity. Turns out, he had conjured up a scheme to suck my very soul from my body, to restore himself, and take revenge on those who had forsaken him.

For Irenicus had once been an elf, who lived in a beautiful forest among other of his kin. But he had been banished, and stripped of his elven heritage when he attempted to absorb the power from the Tree of Life to rise to godhood, a sin unlike any other, heresy among elves. I also learned yet _another_ startling truth.

My childhood friend, Imoen, was _also_ a Bhaalspawn, something I had never imagined. For she was nothing like Sarevok, or even me for that matter. Her soul was filled with such cheer and humor, that she did not seem to be a tainted Bhaalspawn. Her soul was also taken to restore Irenicus's _sister_ Bodhi. We tracked them through the Underdark, and eventually emerged into the middle of Irenicus's revenge, once more attempting to drain the Tree of Life and destroying his former home, the elven city of Suldanessellar.

I…I had tried to kill Bodhi as fast as I could, but perhaps because Imoen wasn't as in touch with the taint of Bhaal as I was, she wasn't able to survive, and wasted away. I felt horrible afterwards, for a long while I felt useless and ashamed of myself. Losing a long time friend and a sibling is a great weight to bear. But I eventually slew Bodhi, and absorbed Imoen's taint into myself. Then I halted Irenicus's fiendish plan, and killed him. But instead of my soul returning to me, it was sucked down to Hell, dragging me along for the ride.

There, I had to face many challenges, looking deep into my own soul. I had actually met my half-brother Sarevok yet again, who I fought once again and killed once again. Then, when I had completed these tests, Irenicus and I came face to face one last time. There was the final battle, and in the end I had killed him once and for all.

Afterwards, I remained in Suldanessellar for a time, but still feeling so lost and empty, my life rapidly becoming worse and worse. And then I began to hear tales of other Bhaalspawn spreading havoc and strife across the land. Naturally, the elves around me felt fear at my presence. But I was unsure as to what I should do.

Queen Ellesime, ruler of Suldanessellar had offered some advice, instructing me to go and speak to these guardian stone things, giant stone faces that spoke to me in rhymes about events that had been transpiring, and will transpire. It was a lot of vague information to bear…with no real answers in hand. I had concluded that all I could do was to go forward, and see where it takes me. When I opened my eyes after passing out…Well, I found out where.


	6. The Path of Destiny

**Chapter 6: **The Path of Destiny

I have had the misfortunate to be slammed on the side of the head with a warhammer once, back when I wasn't as efficient a warrior. It hurt a lot. Simple but true. And I had thought that maybe my brains had been scrambled, reduced to a viscous mess.

That's precisely how I felt when I came to, a ripping pain in my head, and my eyes. I even seemed to feel it on my tongue, if such a thing is possible. The ground beneath me was like ice, hard and frozen, but the air didn't seem chilly. It was warm and slightly damp, but stale, as if not breathed in a long while.

My eyes opened, but it was some time before I could start making out objects and shapes. While I waited, I tried to recall the recent happenings in my vexing and increasingly burdensome life. My duel with my sister…Illasera. I had killed her. Big surprise. Then…there was that pain, and I lost consciousness. Naturally, logic would dictate that I would wake up where I had passed out, but logic doesn't usually give me much of a break.

When I could at last see, I wasn't in the forest anymore. I didn't see the remains of my sister or of her cohorts. I was sitting in what looked to be almost like a cavern. The floors were stone, with jagged stalactites and that dull groaning wind, as it passes through the tunnels.

Over my head however was a sky. But not the blue sky. Or even a gray one, which at that point would have been welcome. This one was green, with dark shapeless clouds passing over. There didn't seem to be any sun, but there was light around me nonetheless.

There were numerous…things around. Not quite statues, more like monuments but not grand or charming ones. These were smaller, almost decorative and rather unpleasant to look at. I was alone in this chamber, it being rather sizable, and I noticed several doorways, shielded by clouds of mystic energy, the only visible exits. Nothing else really stood out significantly, and once I felt the unsettling feelings pass, I pushed myself up. I found my robe across the floor, still bunched up after I had removed it. It must have followed me here. Weird.

As I put it back into place, there was burst of golden light in front of me, growing all the more brilliant. Yet, despite the intensity, it didn't really hurt my eyes. I couldn't see anything save the light, but it wasn't blinding me. When it subsided, there was a celestial being standing before me. And was it _big_!

I'm a sizable man myself, roughly eight spans tall, but this being was twelve to thirteen easily, making me quite the dwarf. Not only tall, but beautiful, having a distinct female form, with glowing sapphire skin, flowing fiery ruby locks, and a gold aura around it. Her. Whatever it was, it was a sight to behold indeed.

_"I greet you god-child, you who are of divine blood. I have awaited you."_ As expected, it had a divine voice to match its heavenly appearance, with a melodic echo to it, sounding sweet and almost curious. At this greeting, I bowed. Manners always come first.

"And greetings to you…You know what I am then? Who are you? Obviously someone of great power to so casually bring me to a place such as this." At this, the holy being smiled.

"_I have existed since the first strand of fate was woven, a servant of the path and the gods. I have watched your own path most carefully."_

"Which would make you…an angle…or something?" I received no response. She only looked at me. I felt rather stupid at that. "Sorry, didn't mean to interrupt…You've been watching me? I suppose I'm flattered…Why is my own path in life an interest to you?"

_"For simple reasons god-child. Our own servant, who was the mortal Alaundo, spoke the truths that became prophecy. It tells of your coming, and all the others who are the progeny of Bhaal. The spark of the divine rests within all of Bhaal's children, and the time for their joining is nigh. I am here to aid you god-child."_

"I see. Well, some aid would be nice. Um…perhaps then you could tell me where I am? This place isn't very appealing…Not the sort of location I would have thought a solar would bring me to, to talk of looming dire events." The solar angle lifted her hand, and gestured to the world around us.

_"This? This is the layer of the Abyss once ruled by your sire, Bhaal. You have been here before, although it was altered, then, by your own consciousness."_

"Ah. That may explain the eccentric choices of décor. Alright, what is this all about? And what do I have to do with any of this?"

_"The progeny of Bhaal are many…and now they are quickly being extinguished, their spark returning to the source. An event unfolds of divine significance god-child. As for your purpose, you are central to this Event. Many are the strings of fate that start or pass through you. The end, I cannot see. I must shepherd you through this time as best I can." _

This was all very sudden, but somewhat expected, and rather predictable with my run of recent luck. From the sound of things, I was going to be playing a big part in upcoming madness, touching the lives of many. It _would_ have to be me. It just didn't seem to be in the cards for me to have a normal life. Weirdness is thrust upon me at every turn.

"Great…And I suppose that despite the fact that I'd rather not have a hand in all this, I get the feeling that I don't exactly have the choice to decline the role of being the center of attention here. Very well then, I will do what I must. So…exactly what _am_ I to do now?" The solar was silent, almost as if she were contemplating telling me something or not. At last she spoke.

"_I cannot interfere. I can only prepare you god-child…aid in your education, you who are most unready to assume your destiny."_

"Unready? Meaning…?"

"_I mean only that unready for the possibilities that await you. Your mortal mind does not readily comprehend the power in your blood. When you were last in your sire's realm, god-child, it was altered by your own conciseness, without you even forming the intent to do so. You are not ready for the power."_

"I see…" I chuckled. "Huh, and here I just got finished telling Illasera about my knowledge of power…Guess I spoke too soon."

_"You must be ready. It is your presence which determines the outcome of the prophecy, although even I cannot see it yet. When the time comes, you will be ready…I will make certain."_

"So, does that mean you can tell me a little about the meaning of my power?"

_"Power comes with knowledge god-child. It shall come to you in time, as your destiny unfolds."_ With this, the solar stepped back, and began to grow transparent, fading from sight.

_"I shall see you soon. Until then, hold your heart close, and know you are not alone."_ And with last lingering trace of light, the angelic being vanished, leaving not a trace behind. Leaving me alone…in that place.

"I don't suppose you can tell me how to get out of here?" I called aloud, hoping for some manner of response. I got none.

"Great…I'm stuck in this…well I suppose that is literally a hellhole…This day's getting better all the time…" With no other course, I began to scour around, trying to find anything may have been deemed as a way out. No such luck, I came up to the shielded rooms, but I could not enter, the magic force pushed me back. There was one other door that looked like it led into oblivion itself, and I examined that most carefully.

"This has to be it…Now, if only I knew how it works…Where is a guide when you need one?"

Before I could come up with my own witty response, there was a surge of magical energy behind me. I turned, and watched as a pillar of smoke formed from nowhere. It began to grow and start taking a humanoid form. And what, or rather who it became was both a shock, and yet no real surprise…


	7. Third Times A Charm

**Chapter 7: **Third Times A Charm…

"Sarevok," I grunted the name in a rankled tone. But not with anger as one might expect, or even aggravation. Rather, it was exasperated. For that was who now stood before me, a ghostly form of my dead half-brother, who I myself had killed. Twice actually. He now loomed before me, his body wavering like smoke, making it difficult to read his face or see his eyes clearly.

"So," his dark hollow voice rang out, not having changed since the last time, "You have finally arrived. I have been waiting for you." I turned to face him, wary of course, but in no mood to talk to him.

"Waiting for me?" I echoed, "I'm _touched_ that you wanted to see me again Sarevok. It makes me feel all warm and fuzzy. Now begone, I am in _no_ mood to fight you again." He did not heed my request.

"Unfortunately, I cannot go brother. And it seems that you can't either. But perhaps that could change if you are willing to hear my words…" I almost laughed at that, but settled for a gaze of skepticism and irritation.

"That's _real_ tempting and all, but I think I've heard more than enough of _your_ words in my life already. If I recall, when I saw you last time in Hell, your _words_ then were merely insults which you threw in an attempt to bait me, so that I would transform into the Slayer. But then I destroyed you…again."

"Indeed you did brother, though that was no fault of mine. It was _you_ who had summoned me to that place to perform the role of a source of you inner anger, even if the words were my own. If you recall, it is _your_ will that shapes our father's realm…whether you are aware of it or not."

"My father's realm? Right, that's what…that solar said…" There was a change in expression from Sarevok, hard to see as his face was still clouded, almost hazy.

"You mean…you did not know where you were when you arrived? You did not come here on purpose?"

"On purpose?" This time, I actually did give a tired laugh at the thought of such idiocy; "Do you think that I would _intentionally_ come to this forsaken hell?" At this, Sarevok began to laugh himself, a sound that had haunted me in my earlier days. He had uttered that cold and mirthless laugh many a time, his deep voice giving it a chilling quality to it.

"Ha, what a bitter irony this is! You all but stumble about nearly blind to your true power, and yet you still survive. Whilst I am reduced to this! Bah. Very well brother, you may know of where we are, but you still sound as if you do not fully understand. I shall explain it. As I have said, this is the realm of our father, his abyssal realm brother. Once ruled by Bhaal, it is now shaped and remade by the taint present in your soul. Though no longer present in mine." He cast a ghostly hand around, as if to showcase the dire plane we now stood.

"You have been here before…Do you not recall when you battled the wizard who stole your divine essence? This is that place, altered once again by your own consciousness. In truth, it is a cocoon of sorts, a miniature version of our father's larger realm. A plane within a plane one might say. I can only assume that your mind formed it to protect you from the power of this place…Quite a remarkable feat dear brother, I would not have guessed you could be so clever."

"Right. And while this is all _very_ interesting, what does any of this have to do with me? Or _you_ for that matter. Such as…why are _you_ here?" Sarevok advanced a few steps. His footfalls didn't make any noise, not even a whisper of sound. I guess ghosts don't make some of the physical noises that we of the living do. At his approach, I tensed beneath my robe, waiting to see what he would do. One could never tell what tricks this dead brother of mine had up his sleeve.

"Why?" he pressed, with an interesting light tone in his almost expressionless voice, "I wish to make a deal naturally. I have little left to lose now brother, but much to gain. You see, when this plane began to form, I spotted it and surmised that you would eventually find your way here. Therefore I waited, waited for you to arrive so that we might discuss my…deal."

"And we come to it at last!" I groaned. I had suspected that Sarevok hadn't shown up just to talk about old times or to have a brotherly drink. "Typical of your nature I suppose, you wish for something. However, as I understand it, there isn't really much a ghost needs. What is it that you want from _me?_" He answered, advancing a step more.

"In the time since you destroyed me again, I have done nothing but try to reform my shattered self. And I am still a phantom, nothing but a shadow, standing before you. But I grow so weary of this…nightmare. What do you think I want brother? I wish to live again…I wish to exist. _You_ can do that." Silence fell between us as his words faded in the air around us. I didn't react at first, almost not registering what he had just said. I would have laughed when it got through, but all I managed was a grunt.

"Bring you back to life? You're kidding right?" One look at his hazy face was all the answer I needed. "I see. I take it then that you believe that I am a madman? For starters, I have no gifts as a cleric, and I follow no god. I have no power to attempt such a thing, nor a god to appeal to…Not than any of them would take the job."

"You require no connection with gods brother, to assist me. All that is required is the smallest fraction of your soul…given freely, with the taint of our dead father within it. That would recreate my flesh, restore my mortality…Sarevok would live again!" I scoffed at that.

"Yes, Sarevok the man who sought my death will live again. What am I…an idiot? I see no rational reason as to why I would _ever_ consider doing something like that. You've tried to kill me Sarevok…Twice! Why in the name of each and every god of the Realms would I consider such insanity?"

"I do not deny the things I have done in the past," he answered levelly, "And I know you have ample reason to despise me. But I'm not asking you accept what I am. I suppose I am asking you to put aside past grievances to assist me."

"You're wanting me to forgive you, is that it? After everything that you've done, and not just to me? That's certainly asking a mouthful." He snorted, shaking his head, there being a trace of humor now.

"Have you not had your satisfaction? You killed me for slaying Gorion and involving you in my own murderous planning. Was that not enough for your bloodlust? And in Hell, I was merely doing the job that you yourself called me to do. Do you hold grudges against the dead now?"

I knew he was right. My past adventures had shown me that. I had loved Gorion, the man who had been my only real father and guardian. I had been heartbroken and filled with hatred at his killer, and much of my motivation in pressing onward was spurred by thoughts of vengeance. And indeed, I had eventually killed Sarevok, banishing him to Hell.

But even after that battle, having finally avenged Gorion, I hadn't felt better. Actually, I had felt worse, knowing then that I was merely doing what my murderous blood was dictating. It almost made killing Sarevok meaningless. Perhaps at first I had wanted to butcher him for what he had done, but when I had killed him, I had felt nothing. There really wasn't any reason for it, as I knew that he too was driven on by the same tainted blood we shared.

I could feel my resistance towards refusing his request slipping, and I tried to retake control.

"I seem to remember that you said _deal_? Meaning you have something to trade…What could you possibly offer me in return for this?" Sarevok gave me a funny look. Funny for him anyway, his head shook and his eyes widened.

"I do not come before you empty-handed brother. I have much to offer…And you needn't fear me any longer. You think me a fool? Twice now I have fallen to your skills. You are stronger than I; this is something I do not contest. But I know things about this place that you do not. Such as how to leave it, and even more, insight on what lies before you in your future."

I stood quiet. I _was_ stuck here, and I had no clue as to how to escape. I had searched thoroughly and had come up with nothing. My brother claimed he knew how to leave. That was, if I could trust what he said. My first reaction was to gibe at my own idiocy, _of course_ he was lying, it was who he was. But looking hard at him, despite my understandable skepticism, he _seemed_ to be speaking honestly and perhaps he _could_ clarify things where the solar had failed to do so. Gods and celestials had somewhat of an annoying habit of always being vague in details. Mortals on the other hand had a tendency to be more blunt. Especially in my dead brother's care. Blunt was _his_ specialty.

"Perhaps you'd care to explain where you came by this…information?" I pressed him.

"I did much studying and research back in my days within the Iron Throne. I gathered much of the old lore when I was alive. If you will remember, it was my goal to assume the place of our father, thus I would need to understand all the olden foretellings. And even in death, I still retain that knowledge. What say you brother? Will you accept?"

I was at a point of indecision. Sarevok had done much to wrong me in the past, yet I could feel it…He _wasn't_ the same anymore. And I could see it as well. His manner, though still harsh and dare I say grouchy, wasn't as sinister as I once remembered; he didn't seem to have that bloodthirsty growl in his voice. The one that had terrified me so greatly when I first saw him. Perhaps because he was dead…Or maybe, without the taint of Bhaal in him, he no longer was driven to rise in power.

And he had openly told me that I was stronger than him. I never knew my brother very well, since the few times we had met he had tried to kill me, but I felt certain that such an admission was something that his original character would _never_ have admitted to. He would have defied _that_ to the end.

"Before I answer, tell me something…What would you do? If you came back, what would you do with this new life?" There was no response, as I could tell that he was thinking hard.

"Truthfully…I am…unsure brother. I would avoid your wrath, certainly. Beyond that, I…don't know. Without the taint of Bhaal, I do not have the same drive as before, thus I would have much to think about with my new life…But I _am_ sure that I wish to live again. I wish to be free of this torment."

I could only imagine the horrors of what his death had brought him. Probably the same fate awaited me. I didn't feel sorry for him as it was a fate well earned, but I did feel compelled to assist. He may still have been evil, but right now he was simply asking for help, and it was almost in my nature to aid him. Despite many who may call me a sucker for doing so. In the past, I had aided evil before…Perhaps…one more time…

"I must be mad…" I sighed, stepping forward myself. "Very well Sarevok…You have a deal." I didn't think it was possible for a ghost to look so lively and joyful, but his face turned into an almost wild grin.

"Yes! I have cheated death! Thank you brother!" He extended his undead hand towards me, so naturally I reached out.

Despite him being nearly transparent, I still felt something solid as I took his forearm and when he grasped mine. At once there was a sudden jolt, my head bursting with stabbing pain, my eyes bulging, watering as my vision faded. I couldn't breath, my lungs had frozen, almost numb, and my legs began to quake, buckling beneath me. Hells, my whole body was quivering and I felt that unmistakable sense of nausea wash over my insides, rising up, encouraging me to remove my breakfast from my body.

I steeled myself through the waves of disorientation, willing myself to remain conscious, and in a few grueling moments, it had passed. Sarevok released my hand and I fell back, staggering a pace or two away. I still felt woozy, gasping for air and my vision was impaired, but I could still see somewhat.

Sarevok's phantom-like body was beginning to solidify, the trails of vapors following him began to dissipate, and a light glow of pale verdant light seemed to shine from within. When it faded, my brother was standing there, in simple clothes, unarmed, but unmistakably living. He examined himself, running his hands over his arms, testing the stability of his new form. There was a grin on his face, which grew and grew as his eyes opened wide. He then leaned back and hollered up at the green sky, thrusting his fists upward in triumph.

"_I LIVE!_ Flesh and blood and bone! _I AM ALIVE!_ Ha ha, I swore I would scratch and crawl my way back to the world of the living! _And I have done it!"_ His exhilaration was quite a sight; I had never before seen a happy Sarevok before. Kinda creepy. He looked moments away from perhaps breaking out into a wild jig of victory and joy, but I have a suspicion that the Heavens themselves would collapse long before this brother of mine would do anything like that.

I looked him over myself.

"You know, without that huge set of dark armor you always wore…you don't look nearly as terrifying as I seem to recall you being." It was true, as he stood there he no longer reminded me of a hulking armored demon, looking like a man only. Well, a really really _big_ man that was still quite imposing.

"Perhaps, but is just as well that it didn't return with me. Without the essence of Bhaal to channel its power, it is useless to me." He faced me, looking like he would bow. He didn't though. "Thank you brother, for this gift. I am pleased."

"It wasn't a _gift_ Sarevok. This was a trade. Now tell me what you know, or else we're going to be starting round three."

"Very well, first I shall tell you how to leave this place…" He turned towards the portal behind him, the one that looked like an endless void. "This plane is an extension of your soul. It exists because you _need_ it to. This portal here is the way out. You use your will and you depart. But it will not take you wherever you wish to go. It will only take you to the place where you _need_ to be. Or at least where you _think_ you need to be."

"So, I just mentally will myself out of here, and I'll appear in some random place? Gee, that's sure sounds _really_ safe."

"Not random, as there is a certain location where you must go. And I know where. In my youth I spent much of my time looking into the old lore of the dead Bhaal priesthood, and uncovered one of the old prophecies. It spoke of the Sword Coast running red with blood, but much of this conflict will culminate in a great struggle within the Tethyrian city of Saradush. It is there you _must_ go, where the prophecy of old will begin."

Saradush…" I mused, "That's a far cry from where I was. So what will I find there pertaining to this whole ordeal?"

"How would I know?" he grunted, "The prophecies do not spell out every detail as to what is going to happen. It acts merely as guidelines that will lead you to your destiny." I sighed. All these shrouded mysteries was starting to make my head hurt.

"Alright, well if I'm going to be whisked off to Saradush against my will, then I suppose I'd best be on my way. I suppose I should say thanks Sarevok, for the information. You actually surprised me, I sort of thought you were lying just to get my cooperation. So thanks, hope you enjoy life. Again." I strode for my magic portal gateway, passing my brother. His voice made me pause.  
"One moment brother. You cannot leave yet. The portal will not work for you at the moment." I froze, and I sent a boiling stare over my shoulder. It figures.

"_What? _I hope for your sake that you weren't lying to me Sarevok, because that's a _really_ good way to get me mad. What? You haven't died enough times for your liking? If you wish to be killed _again_ then please…let me know. I'd do my best to help you." Sarevok held up a hand, perhaps to motion me to stay my wrath.

"I did not lie brother. I cannot give you the ability to activate the portal. There are many places in this plane of yours that I have been barred from. One I _can_ open, and inside is the answer you seek. Watch." So saying, Sarevok closed his eyes, and was silent. There was a tingling in my body, as I felt this tugging feeling, urging and compelling me to look towards one of the doorways that had been blocked by the magical fog earlier. One of the openings was clear now, the mystic smoke having dissipated.

"Inside you will face a challenge. Once you complete that, you may access the portal and begin your journey."

"A challenge? What kind of challenge?"

"I do not know in detail, except that it will mirror yourself and your experiences. Thus it is likely to be hazardous. That is why I have one final thing to ask of you brother…Take me with you."


	8. Joining Forces

**Chapter 8:** Joining Forces

"What?!" I choked out, feeling as if I had just swallowed a huge rock, and it getting lodged in my throat. "You want to…come with me?"

"Yes."

"You can't be serious! I'm already questioning my sanity in my decision to bring you back to life, and now you think I'll suspend my judgment even further by letting you tag along with me?"

"Yes." My brother…Mr. Blunt.

"I thought you hated me Sarevok…why in the hells would you want to come _with_ me?"

"I _did_ hate you. I had after all, abundant reasons to. Now though, many things have changed; perhaps my hatreds died with my rebirth. I will not lie; I do not _like_ you Dietrich, that is true, but I have respect for you, enough so that I would accompany you towards your destiny, just like your numerous followers." I sighed at that. I guess he wasn't one to understand how I saw those around me.

"First, I don't have _followers_ Sarevok. I have friends. Friends who look out for me and my well-being, friends who have concern for my dark nature, friends who probably won't try to kill me. Tell me, do _you_ fall into _any_ of these categories?" He didn't answer that question.

"It is true; I am not as humane and philanthropic as others that follow you, but nonetheless I do have my reasons. Originally, I was certain that the old prophecies were focused around me, but that proved to be untrue when you killed me. Even though that is no longer the case, I still have more information about these foretellings. I can help you brother, with this challenge and more."

I was skeptical about this. True, my brother may have some insight to the happenings around me, but I knew much about his nature. There was only so much of a person that could be stripped from them as they perish. Even if they happened to have died twice.

"And am I to believe that you do this as charity? Out of the so-called goodness of your new heart? Don't take me for a fool; I know well enough how _you_ think _brother_. What do you get in return?" Sarevok chuckled, his laugh having far less of that chilling tone that had always sent cold shakes up my back and tickled my nerves. It was still creepy though.

"I see you have come to understand how I am…How clever of you. You are correct; I do this for no selfless reason. There is great power in your wake Dietrich, as I am not the first to tell you I'm sure. What's more, if I am at your side, than I may remain out of your path, which is something I shall avoid above all else during these troubled times. Think of it! Brother and brother side by side!"

"So, I'd let you come along as my sage of worldly wisdom, so _you_ might gain power? That's not going very far to convince me."

"My insight is only one way I could assist you. Don't tell me you've forgotten my warrior's prowess already brother? _You_ should know, you have fought be twice after all. A Deathbringer is no small opponent, even for those that have divine blood. And during my time in hell, I have grown even stronger. If you were to accept me, I would follow and protect you."

"Do I look like someone who _needs_ protecting?"

"I did not mean it in terms that you were helpless, but there is much one man cannot do alone. If you were to somehow die in a foolhardy and reckless attack, then where would that leave us? Your role to play in the prophecy would come to an end, and perhaps much more with it. But if I were to join you, I could share your burden of dangers."

This was an excellent point. I was certain that Illasera wasn't the only Bhaalspawn out there, and I had a hunch there would be more to come. Chances were also good that they could be even more powerful than her. Or more importantly…me. But still, to trust the man who had tried to kill me before?

"I _do_ remember how strong you are Sarevok, which is why I am wary. When I am at my full strength, I have nothing to fear from you. But say I was weakened…What's to stop you from turning on me and killing me?"

"Nothing I suppose…Though it would not serve my purposes."

"What about revenge?"  
"Hmph…I have _long_ since put thoughts such as that to rest. And what is vengeance when compared to the course of the current events around us? Hollow and meaningless. Besides, if you do not trust me alone, then why not add others to fight with you? Surely there are some you still know…"

"And how do expect me to do that precisely?" I waved a hand around the barren plane, as if to display the fact that it was rather remote, and there were no companions merely standing around. "Do you see any place around here where I can mail a letter? And you said that stupid portal is going to take me straight to Saradush! Meaning, I can't just take off on a road trip to go and round up a posse! And I can't just _bring_ people here!"

The look Sarevok gave me following this outburst made me pause. It was a sly grin, raising his eyebrow. I knew what he was getting at.

"You mean…I _can_ bring people here?" My brother turned, and waved to the two grotesque statues that sat on either side of the exit portal, bizarrely shaped.

"As I have said, you do not fully grasp the power you hold in this place. If you are in need of companions, then you may call them here to your side. You can use these statues to summon anyone you wish to assist you. In truth, I am surprised at their absence. Since I have known you, you have been one to surround yourself with allies who share your perils. I have always thought of that as a weakness, distracting yourself with their safety, but then…you are still alive, while I had died. Why is it you are alone now?"

I didn't answer. I knew why, all too well. It was…

"Perhaps you sent them away out of concern," Sarevok mused, "Not wishing them to be tried to your own bloody fate?" I twisted my head, looking over my shoulder. His face was expressionless, but in those eyes, there was a hint of almost malicious humor. He had been playing with me, a dangerous game. My own expression turned rather irritable, ice in my eyes.

"If you _knew_, then why did you bother asking?" There was the slightest of smiles on his face now, an almost untraceable line.

"Curiosity I suppose."

"I see. Well, bear in mind the next time you are feeling _curious_, as to what happened to the cat."

He said no more, and just stood there, eyes empty. He must have felt that he wasn't helping his case with trying to raise my ire. He opted to change the direction of things. "Do you still not trust me?"

I wasn't sure anymore. If he had been acting more like the Sarevok that had been a murdering bastard, then I would have promptly told him to go jump in a chasm. But as of right now, he did not seem like that. As I said, he just wasn't radiating that baneful presence that made my skin crawl. Of course, that wasn't enough in itself. There was still who he was as a person to consider, even without the taint of Bhaal. He still posed a threat, especially if he wanted to travel with me…As peculiar a concept as it was.

"If you would like," his voice intruding upon my thoughts, "I could swear an oath of loyalty. Speaking such words here, in this realm where you hold power, it would be impossible for me to betray you. A powerful spell like a geas that I could not break…" That sounded good. To ensure my safety…but was I _really_ in danger? I thought long and hard, weighing my options.

On the one hand, I had my former Bhaalspawn brother, whom I didn't have the best of family ties with. He certainly wasn't as noble or benevolent as myself, and I'd be willing to wager that he could and would be just as cruel and ruthless as I knew he was. I had already loosed him back upon the world by restoring his life, but to have his own possible chaos-sowing in the wake of my own? That sounded like a genuine disaster.

But on the other hand, I had who knows how many Bhaalspawn out to kill me just because we are siblings. As of the current moment, I was one man alone, facing an unknown number of enemies. Having a warrior as daunting and skillful as Sarevok at my back would certainly boost my chances.

I suppose it all came down to a matter of trust. Sarevok said he didn't hate me, but didn't like me either. That was more or less the same way I felt regarding him as well. Whatever hatred I had for him was gone, perhaps worn away to nothing both times I had destroyed him. I still didn't approve of what sort of person he was, and what he might do, but in that day and age, I was surrounded on all sides by people as wicked as that if not worse. In a sense, I would be siding with the evil I know against the evil I don't. A tricky gamble anyway you look at it.

Though truthfully, I had enough to worry about with killer Bhaalspawn after my head. My half-brother didn't seem that much of a threat at this point, notably since I _knew_ I could kill him again if need be. There was being careful, and then there was being paranoid. I hated being paranoid. Like some jittery disturbed wizard, locked in his laboratory, who begins to suspect his coat racks of treachery. I have seen such things, and had no wish to end up the same way. And there was really only one thing I could do…

I didn't answer his final question. Instead, I reached inside my cloak, and drew out a small blue velvet bag, one of my favorite of possessions. My brother watched as I dug around in the little pouch, sorting through it.

What I pulled out was a large piece of armor, full plate mail, tinted a dark gray, almost black, rather sinister looking. It was enchanted heavily, with thick hard outer plates and a chainmail mesh underneath, making it quite difficult to penetrate. What was even stranger was that huge armor had come out of that tiny bag, which looked to be a simple gold holder. The Bag of Holding…you gotta love it.

I set the mail down, before digging around in the abyssal bag again, removing the leg plates and arm guard. Then I felt around for something else. This time, I gingerly drew out a long slender bundle of dark indigo cloth, which was wrapped around something. Even through the fabric, I could still feel the sinister aura surrounding the object within. I carefully pulled apart the material to reveal an enormous sword, with a flawless steel blade, tapering off into a wicked point. The guard was a tarnished gold, and the grip around the hilt was a blood crimson. This blade practically pulsated with malevolence, an almost visible black aura surrounding it.

Making sure to not touch the accused weapon, I advanced towards my brother, offering the sword. "If you're coming with me, then you'll probably be needing this." He didn't seem to hear; his gaze was focused down on the sword. There was a sign of recognition in his face; his eyes widening in shock and perhaps sheer pleasure.

"The Soul Reaver," his voice almost gushing the name in admiration.

"Is _that_ what you call this thing? We found it on some demon wraith creature in the Underdark, but none of us could wield it. Couldn't even touch it…No shop would take it either; the thing was too damn evil. I _was_ going to take it to a temple eventually to have it purified, but since _you_ aren't exactly a saint…"

"You suspect that I may be able to control it?"

"It's just a thought…" With very little caution, Sarevok wrapped his thick fingers around the hilt, and at once, the dark aura surged into his hand, coursing up his arm. It was testing him. I had encountered this before. Swords of great power had an almost sentient awareness, and some could be rather choosy about who they let wield them.

This bothered me somewhat, handing over a sword of incredible evil to my brother, who I didn't fully trust, but I knew I had to swallow down those feelings and move on. Otherwise my hair might fall out from the stress. After a tense moment, the aura around the sword diminished and vanished, retreating back into the blade. Sarevok held the sword up, his eyes traveling along the length of it.

"It has accepted me," was all he said, finding it hard to tear his gaze away.

"Whoopee. You can stop staring at it now. This armor should be useful as well. It's one of the strongest pieces I have ever seen." Sarevok retrieved the Soul Reaver's sheath and replaced it, before examining the armor before him.

"It is indeed. Why do you not wear it brother? It does not have any sinister feel to it…" I loosed my cloak, showing him the fact that I wore no protective covering of any sort beneath.

"I don't need it. I've learned how to fight without such hindrances."

"A blademaster," Sarevok understood without even pondering it. "I suspected that you would be honing your skills in your travels. I am anxious to see your expertise in battle. But it still seems a foolish approach to me. The coming battles will no doubt be dangerous; it may be wise to keep yourself better protected. To trust your skills alone will keep you alive is perilous and…arrogant."

"Sarevok, if I'm letting you come with me, then I don't want you fussing at me like a mother. I haven't survived this long on dumb luck you know, and I'm quite capable of handling myself, thank you. I would think _you_ could understand that."

"So you accept my service? Shall I speak the oath of loyalty?" I shook my head, refastening my cloak.

"No. The fact that you _would_ say it if I asked is enough. I'll not bind you to me…I've never had a taste for slavery. You are alive, and free to choose your path from here on out. If you want to join me, for whatever reasons you have, so long as you don't try and overstep your authority and heed my orders, then I suppose I'll not object. However," I faced him squarely, my eyes narrowing, "if the moment comes that you show your _true_ self in earnest, then I won't just dismiss you…I will kill you for third and final time. You understand me?"

This made him smile, that keen wolf smile that showed that his cunning and intelligence was vast. "Obedience or death? Tenets I am well versed in. We are more alike than I ever suspected. I accept your terms, though you still do not wish for me to make the pledge of service?"

"As I said, slavery isn't in my nature. And I know all too well the terrors a geas spell or its equivalency can do to a man. I'll not willing inflict that upon anyone, and that includes you."

His face showed genuine surprised at my decision. "You…will not require an oath? An odd choice brother…certainly not one I would have made. But so be it."


	9. Friendly Faces

**Notes: First off, I'm certain that some of you out there may dislike or feel the need to point out the invalidness (for lack of a better word) of the presence of a certain character in this chapter. I think you'll know who. My answer is, I liked him in Shadows of Amn, and wanted him here. Also, I've gone back and edited the previous chapters, cleaning them up, and adding some new stuff. Hope it helps…**

**Chapter 9:** Friendly Faces

"So, how do these things…work," I asked my brother, gazing up at the rather hideous statues. I had helped him into the dark armor, fastening all the buckles and clasps. It was a pain indeed. Yet another reason I hate armor.

But it looked…well, _right_ on Sarevok, his already tremendous frame having grown even taller and massive. I remembered that all too well back in Baldur's Gate.

Sarevok is a mammoth of a man next to me, easily nine and a half spans tall. His physical strength was no doubt far greater than my own, and I knew he was no slouch with a big sword. When he was in armor, I looked even frailer and puny by contrast. But then…appearance isn't everything. Still, I was glad I would not have to fight him again. Even though I _could_ beat him in a straight on fight, I wouldn't have relished it, as he was one of the toughest men I had ever faced.

Once suited up, and strapping the Soul Reaver across his back, he joined me.

"I am not certain…You are the one who constructed them, not I. Even if it was unconsciously. I merely know what they can do." That hadn't been a whole wagon-load of help. I stepped forward, examining the stone figures, running my hands across the smooth cold rock. It sent a shiver through my body, and I nearly recoiled from it. Before I wanted to summon anyone, I would need to consider who I wanted to call forth.

_My last group,_ I thought to myself, _when I had killed Irenicus…Who was left? I know there was…_

With no warning, there was a blast of light, and a whirling of energy in front of us. At this, I leapt backward, hand resting on one of my swords at my belt. Sarevok held a similar position, reaching for his own weapon. _So_, I said to myself, _Thought activated…A nice feature, if unexpected. _

When the illumination had faded, there was a man standing there. He too was armored, with a large sword of his own across his back. He was bald, with many visible deep scars across his head, and several tattoos as well. As to be anticipated after such a jolt, he was a bit confused, and directing his comments towards a small pouch at his waist. At least, that was the most logical assumption.

"Eh? Where have you brought us Boo? I am duly impressed by your show of great power, but a little forewarning would have been nice. No matter! Wherever evil treads, Minsc treads louder!" I couldn't help but smile at this, and released my sword. I nodded at Sarevok, who hung back whilst I took a step forward.

"Minsc! Over here!" At the sound of his name, Minsc turned on his heels and saw me. At once, his face grew joyful in a broad smile, and he lifted the petite purse on his belt up towards his face. Poking out of the opening was a fuzzy little orange and white hamster, its pink nose twitching. Minsc pointed towards me, continuing to talk to his companion.

"Ooo, look who you have found Boo, with your unerring sense of hamster direction. It is our good friend Deric! A reunion of heroes! May all that is evil quiver before us like so much rancid jelly!"

This was typical of Minsc. In all the time we had traveled together, he had not once _ever_ said my name right. Each time he spoke it, it changed to some other mispronunciation. And I don't even think he noticed. I had long since ceased in trying to help him say it right. Oh well.

"It's good to see you Minsc. I trust Boo is well?" Minsc held out the bag, so that I may get a better look at his closest friend and his most wise advisor.

"Boo is healthy and eager to resume the battle! It is why he has brought me here no doubt! To team up with you again, and send evil men scampering all weasel-like into what holes they can find!"

"You would intentionally admit this madman into your company?" Sarevok questioned, not even trying to hide his distaste for my choice, "I would have thought you smarter than that brother."

Minsc looked around me, as his eyes narrowed, squinting at my half-brother. Quickly, he strode past me and went right up to Sarevok. Minsc was also a large man, a warrior of Rasheman, and thus he could _almost_ look Sarevok in the eyes with scrutiny.

"Minsc remembers you, oh yes! And Boo recalls your face too! You were dead the last time we saw you…But you come back again? You are like a bad penny…An armored deep-throated bad penny of most sinister evil." He turned to face me, as if waiting for an explanation as to his presence. That was reasonable.

"I brought him back," I told him carefully, "Because he has changed, and wishes to help. I've accepted his service." Minsc turned back to my brother.

"So, you have changed your ways have you? So long as you apply the boot of righteousness to the buttocks of evil, then Boo will look past you're previous faults!"

"I care not for your rodent's acceptance of my nature. I will fight as my brother sees fit." Minsc shrugged, looking back to me.

"Not much improvement in personality. And Boo still shakes at the sound of his voice…" Suddenly a new voice sounded out, interrupting.

"Hey…_HEY!_ Are we gonna kill this guy? Huh? Huh?" Sarevok at once jerked his head up, going on guard, scanning around looking for the source of this unexpected new voice. The moment I heard this, I groaned, inside and out. _I_ _knew_ what made the comment. I gave Minsc a funny look.

"So…you _still_ have…the Lilacor?" Minsc grinned, and pulled out the dark green two-handed sword.

"Oh yes, this sword is _very_ happy to fight evil with Minsc! It shares Boo's keen wisdom on what evil to crush under my heel! We have fought many glorious battles so far!"

"Come on," the sword whined, "Let's go kill something now! Kill kill kill…yeah!" Sarevok's expression was dumbfounded at the sword's one-tracked disposition, but didn't make any comment. No doubt he had a few in mind though.

"I too am ready to fight, but Boo senses no enemies nearby to hack with my sword. But no matter! I know you know what to do! Let us go!"

"Hang on Minsc; I need to bring the rest of the group here." He nodded, and apparently began following orders from Boo to examine the surrounding plane. Sarevok gave me an intent look. I followed his meaning.

"Don't be so quick to judge. He may not be playing with a full deck, but I would think you'd remember his prowess." Sarevok shrugged, and didn't respond.

I decided to think about who I needed next before I touched the statue again. I didn't know any mages, but then, I wasn't really fond of spells. Except of the healing variety. That sort of magic was my best friend. And I knew just the person. Though I knew that this could perhaps be awkward. I took hold of the stone, and thought the name…

Again, there was the swirl of magic, as another person was gated in. A half-elf woman, easy to see from her radiant fair features and lovingly pointed ears. She was wearing her own plate armor, dark almond hair with streaks of blonde spilling down the back of it. A gnarled wooden staff was clutched in her hand, a fine scimitar at her belt, and a small round shield on her back. She stared around, before her eyes settled on me. She could only gape in disbelief for a moment. Then, she rushed forward, dropping her staff and wrapped her arms around me.

"Dietrich," she cried out, "It _is_ you! I am…" she paused, letting go, stepping back, trying to regain her somber composer. "Ahem…I am…glad…to see you again. With all the recent tragedies, I had thought you might have…but no, you are still…"

I gave her a soft smile. "And I am very glad to see you…Jaheira. I hope you've fared well since…parting."

"As well as can be expected, though I have been very busy trying to keep my fellow Harper's from pursuing after you. They were certain you had much to do with the current events involving the Bhaalspawn. I told them that it was nonsense, but it is hard to persuade to those that don't understand the truth."

"And you have my sincere thanks for trying. If not for you, I might be in some globe several leagues under the earth." She smiled at that.

"Pardon my intrusion brother," Sarevok rumbled from behind, "It is not my goal to second-guess your decisions, but I wish to object nonetheless. To have a former lover travel with you would be unwise, clouding your wisdom. In an undertaking such as this, it would be an ill-judged decision."

I was just about to once more reprimand him to stop acting like my nanny, when I heard and felt Jaheira gasp, finally seeing him. Her expression was all that needed to be said on her feelings toward him.

"Sarevok!" she shouted in loathing and disgust, "By the Sacred Oaths of Silvanus is there _no_ end to you?! Must your foulness be stamped out only to return ever more?"

He sneered at her, lips curling. "You harbor much ill will towards me druid. Still feeling sore about those who I had slain? You lover has looked past such things…Apparently you have not. Rather petty of you." He turned to me. "Bring her with us if you wish, it is your mistake to make." At this, Jaheira looked up at me, her expression still hostile, but now shocked.

"_With us?_ Don't tell me that…" I sighed, knowing that this was going to be tough.

"It's a _long_ story. In a nutshell, I have brought him back to life, and will allow him to travel with me." Before Jaheira could make any objection, which I knew she had many of, most of which were probably valid, I held up a hand.

"Believe me when I say that I had thought _very_ long and _very_ hard before accepting this. You have trusted my judgment before…I ask you do so again now." My plea was heard, but she did lean forward and whisper in my ear.

"After you killed him twice, can you really trust to show him your back unguarded? He could…" Again, I cut her off. "I know it, believe me, but I have…_some_… trust in him. Besides," I glanced at my brother, knowing he probably could hear me, "he knows better. He is perfectly aware that two times can certainly become three times…" Jaheira thought on this, and nodded.

"Very well, I shall trust in you. But I _refuse_ to acknowledge him…" She strode off, passing Sarevok without so much as a glance, before halting, to give me one final look. "It _is_ good to see you again…" And she left us. Sarevok didn't say anything, but did raise an eyebrow. I ignored it, and went back to my summonings.

The next person I brought in was going to raise my comrade's doubts, except Sarevok, as they had past misgivings with him. Regardless, I still liked the man; his manner was so similar to Imoen's. The man who appeared looked about, with a curious and surprisingly unworried expression, with slanted eyes, wearing dark leather armor, curved katana's at his side, having the telltale look of a rouge. He caught sight of me.

"Aha," the man cried out with a smile, "So it would seem that you have drawn me to your side once again! And to be expected of your peculiar background, you have summoned me to quite a…interesting environment indeed." He glanced around, up at the sinister sky overhead. Despite this, he still looked clever and witty, the unfriendliness of his surroundings not bothering him at all. "So, how might Yoshimo be of assistance?"

"Well, I was in need of a…wait, I forgot, you don't like the word _thief_, do you? Uh…oh yeah. I was in need of a talented "bypasser of the law" to perhaps lend me his aid. How about it?" Yoshimo bowed before me, keeping that easy-going grin on.

"I am grateful that you remember the preferences of my title. And I would be greatly honored to follow you once more into the queer dangers that you so often land in. Might I inquire though, as to who the large man behind you is? It seems that he is giving me…an unfavorable expression." I had a hunch as to why.

Sarevok had seen Yoshimo's likeness before. He was a Kozakuran, another far off country, but not the first Sarevok had seen. His lover Tamoko, who had been a part of his previously fiendish plan, had loved him and had died by my hands protecting him. Had he been different, Sarevok may have returned her feelings.

"That's my half-brother Sarevok. I told you about him once." A look of recognition crossed Yoshimo's face.

"Ah yes, now I remember, the man who killed your step-father and tried to…" he caught himself. He glanced between us, looking rather sheepish. "Please forgive my careless words. I did not mean to raise any buried emotions. Perhaps I should…" and without even finishing his sentence, he slipped away. Sarevok said nothing. Neither did I.

The last person I gated, I had intentionally saved for the end, to ensure he would not become upset. He had no trouble with Jaheira or Minsc, though he might have some grief with Yoshimo's past treachery. And I had a hunch that he would just downright not like Sarevok. Of course, most people didn't anyway.

He must have felt somewhat out of place in such a grim setting, being as noble as he was. Not to mention that he was by far the oldest person there. Wearing his signature fiery family armor was a hardened veteran of considerable power. There was no surprise in his stern face when he saw me.

"So it is as I expected. I have heard the rising cries against the Bhaalspawn across the realms…and I thought of you. I am relieved to see you are unharmed. Have you a need then, for an old paladin?"

"No, you're not _old_ Keldorn," I countered, speaking a joke the two of us shared, "You're just…well-worn. With all your duties, it is no surprise." He laughed. As he shook my hand, I couldn't help but notice he was still wearing…_it_. The Carsomyr…The Holy Avenger. I almost started to drool at the sight of it.

As a Kensai, I have the utmost respect for _all_ fine blades, including but not limited to my own. But this famous and powerful sword was unlike anything I had ever seen, and I longed to pick it up and wield it, if only for a moment. It's not as though I couldn't _touch_ it, but in my hands, it would not reveal the maximum of its potential. Whenever I saw it, it made me long to become a paladin, just so that I might use it.

Keldorn stepped amongst Jaheira and Minsc, nodding in salute, but his eyes became hard when they landed upon the Kozakuran. Yoshimo merely grinned and bowed.

"So _you_ have been brought here too?" he glanced back at me. "I take it you called him here?" I nodded. Keldorn looked back and shrugged, still looking strict.

"Very well, so long as we do not suffer any more of your treachery, then I shall not object." I wiped my brow. That made me feel better, but if there was going to be any objections, I had a hunch that they weren't going to be about Yoshimo.

At the sight of Sarevok, Keldorn's eyes narrowed, and his hand instinctively reached around to perhaps take a grip on the hilt of his sword. Sarevok gave him a nasty grin at this action. "Do you have some grief with me paladin?"

"I have a problem with the sinister aura about you, yes. One such as you sets me on edge. Reinforced if you are able to wield a malice-filled weapon such as _that_." Keldorn may have getting up there in age, but damn…_was he sharp_. He had noticed the Soul Reaver right off the bat. In truth, he might have been more wary of the sword than Sarevok himself.

"Dietrich, perhaps you can explain this man's presence?" I sighed, realizing I should have written this answer down to save me the trouble of having to explain it over and over.

"Of course. This is my half-brother Sarevok, who I had agreed to revive in exchange for information regarding the current happenings of this Bhaalspawn fiasco. He also has asked to join me, to lend assistance with knowledge and swordsmanship. He has agreed to behave himself and follow my lead; not to mention that he has had much more experience in killing Bhaalspawn than any of us."

"I do not like his presence," Keldorn went on to say, eyeing the armored giant carefully, "It reeks with hatred and malignity. But if you are certain to trust him…then I shall tolerate his company. But I shall be most vigilant of your actions…"

I breathed out my held breath. Out of everyone, Keldorn had the highest of standards, being most selective about whom he chooses to involve himself with. Paladin's…I had wondered if maybe they all had been picky eaters as children…But if he was accepting, I decided to be grateful. With those misgivings aside, we were good to go.

I pulled out numerous healing potions and other vials from my trusty Bag of Holding, things I had been hoarding for quite some time. Once we were fully stocked, I pointed towards the open door, explaining the point of my challenge.

"Very well…Then let's begin…"


	10. The Warrior's Folly

**Chapter 10:** The Warrior's Folly

"The only thing to fear," the phantom man finished before exploding in a blast of spiritual innards, "Is retribution." The room became quiet, all of us bracing for whatever was to come. Retribution from those that had been murdered probably meant that they wanted us dead. So what else was new? And when there was several swirls of magic, and numerous vengeful spirit monsters appeared in front of us, I wasn't too shocked. The fight started...

They started small, kobolds and goblins. Creatures that had long ago become terrified of our mere presence. And to the contrary of their appearance and even pungent smell, they weren't truly real. When they were cut with a fatal blow, they _did_ scream and bleed, but they didn't stay. Their bodies merely melted away into vapors, the wisps vanishing, as more would materialize.

Following them came a wider assortment; doppelgangers, gnolls, and sahuagin. While they are much more difficult, they did not require much effort. After all, goblins and kobolds could be killed with you bare hands. These weren't so weak, but they certainly couldn't be called strong.

Then things got harder, as ogre mages began to appear and began to pelt us from afar with spells. That would require all of us to turn and charge this seemingly long distance between us where they could try and halt our advance with magic. Perfect.

And to top this wonderful skirmish off, last but not least, in came the drow. Warriors and priestess both, the warrior's screaming their nonsense about their goddess Lolth, while the priestess's began to bless them, and started to become real pains with protections and curses.

These opponents weren't anything too difficult, at least at our level, so there wasn't any need for concern. My group and I may have been apart for a while, but we still had our fighting tactics memorized. Back in Amn, when we were chasing after Irenicus, we had found ourselves in many battles, and we had unconsciously begun constructing battle maneuvers as we fought to make ourselves more effective in mass skirmishes.

In a situation where we were outnumbered by lesser opponents, such as here, both Keldorn and Minsc would lead the charge, being covered in armored plating, to deflect missile fire. I was right behind them, and when they would reach the largest concentration of enemies, they would veer off to the left and right, whilst I went straight in the middle, and the three of us would tear into them. Yoshimo and Jaheira were support warriors, coming in to kill the wounded left in our wake, and perhaps to slip around behind them and cut off their retreat.

I have a hunch that it was these well-formulated strategies that had contributed much to our victories. We were all excellent warriors, sure, but injuries were going to happen despite that. In doing things rationally and carefully, that's probably how we had survived with less lasting damage, and hadn't ended up dead. In this new fight, we fought in this manner once again, but there was one little thing different…My brother. He and his grandiose fighting styles threw our carefully balanced attacks totally out of whack.

There was something that I learned about my half-brother in this. I had been trying to classify what he had become now that he had returned to the world of the living. After seeing him fight, I _did_ have an answer, but not about his living death nature. More on what he may have been in perhaps a past life. To put it simply, Sarevok was…an ogre. He was just as strong as any ogre, he was nearly as big as an ogre, as bald as an ogre, and had the almost exact same _smiley_ attitude when regarding anyone besides himself as an ogre.

No sooner had the first kobold been gated in, off he went, yanking the Soul Reaver free, his warcry being his half-insane maniacal laughter. He waded into the lot of them, swinging the sword with one arm, and using his heavy armored hand to grab hold of the frailer creatures and smoosh them to goo. We could only watch the brutality. By the time we got there, most of the little creatures were already gone. Plenty more of the other monsters though. When the larger stuff arrived, we fought them quickly, but I soon became more afraid of my brother than the numerous swarming enemies.

I was freeing the Equalizer out of the stomach of one of the sharky sahuagin, complete with that vile fish smell, when I heard the whistling of a descending blade. I ducked and I caught a glimpse of that huge sword sweep past, and I stole a look behind. My brother was fighting three gnolls at once, he being the same size as them, and his mighty swing had killed two of them. He hadn't even noticed that he nearly had taken my head off.

When the ogre mages came in, we formed up behind Keldorn and went after them. The reason being, the Holy Avenger as well as Keldorn's own abilities to dispel magic spell protections was invaluable when dealing with spellcasters. It was how we had been able to fight so many mages thus far without being blown up. The sword and his own power protected us as we got over there. At least until Sarevok blazed past him, nearly knocking him over, and taking them head on. He took the full force of the spells without even flinching and tore their guts out.

It was the same with the drow. He didn't even mind the fact that he was probably getting burned up by their attacks. He body-slammed their fighters, and cleaved the skulls of the priestess. By the time it was over, he was panting, bloody, but had a look of satisfaction across his face. The others of my party weren't exactly thrilled at this disposition.

When they all had died, the apparition appeared once again, congratulating me on surviving my retribution. I was tempted to laugh. I didn't do that much…Sarevok had killed about two thirds of all the creatures himself; we barely able to even get an attack in otherwise. As this spirit faded, the room grew dark, the outline of its features changing in the blackness. When the light returned, the hardened lava-like floor had turned into stone, with several runes scribed in. I suppose that meant I had passed my first test.

"Everyone alright?" I questioned, putting up my swords. They nodded. We were covered in blood, but most of which wasn't ours. We had a few cuts and scratches, but nothing serious. I had been hit with a nasty crossbow bolt by one of those annoying drow in the midst of all the noisy chaos, it being lodged in my shoulder, but I hardly even noticed. We trudged out of the room.

"Ahem…Sarevok…can I have a word?" He paused, putting his own sword away and shrugged. Everyone else left; knowing that this was to be private. When they were gone, I gave him a stern expression.

"Okay look, I can understand and appreciate that you've been dead for quite a while. And the possibility of killing again is appealing to you…but…what the hell was _that_ all about? I thought you were a Deathbringer, not a berserker. You need to control yourself better, and have some regard for those around you."

"It is how I have always fought," he answered, not looking amused at my whining. "I fought to kill my opponents swiftly and efficiently. And yet you still complain?"

"Yes I do, as a matter of fact. When you said you wanted to join my group, you _did_ understand the concept of the word _group_ right? You did know that there were going to be other people too?" He remained silent.

"You have _great_ skills, don't get me wrong, but they could use a little alteration for the current situation at hand…You need to learn to fight in close proximity with your allies, without killing them in the process. We fight as a party, relying on and helping one another."

"Such things do not suit me, as I am able to handle things myself. I do not see the reason for such an approach."

"Well, I got news for you pal, I sure as hell do! You nearly took my head off while you were so preoccupied with mauling everything. And knocking Keldorn aside? You're already not on his good side, but acting like a butcher, even against monsters, isn't exactly raising his opinion of you."

"What would you have me do brother? Change my fighting style merely because my nature doesn't measure up to his lofty standards? Bah, he if does care for the way that I kill, then let him depart back to his church and sulk."

"Let's get one thing straight here," I told him harshly, tiring of this, "You agreed to follow me, meaning you should be aware that _I_ am in charge. Keldorn is a good friend and a powerful warrior to our cause, and I'll not see him leave because you are so set in your ways. Not to mention the fact that I'm not willing to put any of my friends in danger just because you have a morbid desire to massacre everything in a barbarous frenzy. I _highly_ suggest that you rethink your position on this, lest you succeed in invoking that wrath of mine that you have told me you are _very_ keen on avoiding. All I'm asking is for you to be a bit more mindful of the others. I don't think that's so unreasonable…even for you."

He seemed to take this to heart. I wasn't one to resort to threats, but I was at a loss as to how I else could get through to him. I'd met angry dwarves who were less belligerent than him.

"Very well," he agreed, though looking none too pleased, "I will be more careful in close quarters. But I still feel that assaulting the enemy directly is the wisest path." At least I had gotten him to agree with _something_. But he was such a stubborn ass…

"Fine," I sighed, shaking my head, "have it your way. But remember _this_ brother…You've already died before, and I used a piece of my soul to bring you back. If you die _again_, because of you can't control your bloodlust and wild attacks, I _will not_ be bringing you back a fourth time! This is your last chance at life, and it seems rather idiotic of you to toss it away all because you are so very resolute to change your ways. Think on that…"

I turned and exited, my cloak flapping out behind me. I heard him follow. "Then how would you suggest I fight?" he asked quietly. Yet another reconsideration on his part. Perhaps the thought of dying again had done more in piercing that undoubtedly thick head of his than any of my other words.

"I'm not saying you shouldn't charge the enemy headlong," I told him as we walked, "As in truth, we do that a lot it seems. You just don't need to do it _alone_. That makes you a lone target, drawing all the fire. If you would use all of our strengths, then you won't get torn up as bad. I'd never stand back, and watched any of my comrades throw their lives away. Even those that are morally questionable…I suppose…and I can't believe I am even saying this…since you're now part of my group, and because I'm the leader, I'm…somewhat _worried_ about your wellbeing." This was answered with a chuckle behind me.

"Strange hearing that from _you_ brother…Well, I shall make the attempt to be more mindful of wishes in the future. And I shall also keep a watchful eye on your health as well. Speaking of which…you are wounded brother." He was referring to the crossbow bolt in my shoulder. I pulled it free, and tossed it aside. It hit the ground, then vanished with a puff of smoke. Blood began to flow, but I shrugged it off. I knew it would be gone before long.

"I'll live."


	11. Bhaal's Faithful Little Butler

**Chapter 11:** Bhaal's Faithful Little Butler

Back in the primary chamber, everyone was checking themselves to ensure no one was injured. But thanks to Sarevok's barbarity, he had taken the majority of the damage, which wasn't very much. He drank a healing potion, and was content with that. My own wound had ceased its bleeding, and I paid it no mind, despite the bothered expression of Jaheira. I gave a smile, and waved it off. We didn't need to rest long, perhaps an hour just for the sake of things.

During this time, the five of us sat around, talking about what we had been up to in the past few months. Sarevok stood off by himself, coming to the conclusion that his presence wasn't cherished. Either that, or things such as friendly story-swapping and in-depth conversations just weren't his style. Which wouldn't have surprised me.

Minsc had been more or less wandering, engaging in battles of righteousness at Boo's bidding, having saved many people from grim fates. Jaheira had already said that she had been trying to convince the Harper's that I wasn't the same as so many of the other Bhaalspawn. I had my doubts that they would listen. With the current destruction, I could hardly blame them.

Yoshimo had continued his questionable activities, as a bit of a free lancer, working here and there, often times dropping my name in hopes of getting some handouts. Keldorn had retired for a time, returning to his family, occasionally being called by the Order, in the most pressing of circumstances.

I did feel a little bad, having yanked everyone one away from their own lives, just so that they could once more mingle with my bloody existence. But none of them looked unhappy to be there, ready and willing to fight with me again. That went a long way in making me feel better.

In the midst of all the conversations, there was a sudden blast of light across the room, getting us all to leap to our feet, bracing ourselves. When the smoke and illumination faded, a gray little imp was there, flapping his minute wings, looking around with a puzzled yet enthusiastic expression. When he caught sight of us, he began to grin and laugh, tossing his tiny arms into the air.

"Yay, yay, yay! New great master has come at last! Cespenar finally has been called back!" And he dashed over, homing in on me. I was tempted to draw a sword, but he didn't look like he was charging to attack. As it was, when he reached me, he wrapped himself around my legs, hugging them. I was…well, dumbfounded to say the least. He looked up at me.

"Hello to you, new great master! I am so very happy that you have called me." It took me a moment to find the words for a response.

"Hello yourself…Who exactly are you?" He released me, but continued to grin.

"I am the little butler to the great Bhaal. My name is Cespenar, and now I am here to be your new butler. Very happy I am!"

"My…butler?" I echoed, that being all I could manage at the moment.

"Yes oh yes! I once served the Great Bhaal here before. I do everything he wishes! Then Bhaal dies, and leaves Cespenar all alone. So lonely I was…But now new master has come, and I can resume my duties as a butler!"

"Duties," I questioned, finding the concept of me having a butler, an imp butler of all things, as rather new. But then, I was finding a lot of things new in recent days. "What do you…do exactly?"

"Oh, I clean things, and collect bits and pieces of things that fall into this Abyss. I also use my recipes to make _shiny ones_ when my master asks. And when master needs anything, I will help, I surely will! Cespenar can do many things, oh yes! Cooking and cleaning, take care of swords, remove stinkiness from boots, hangs out underwear, all that stuff!"

"I…see. Well, that's certainly good to know…And what are the shiny ones?"

"Oh. Cespenar knows how to make magic things, combining weapons and things with other things to make them better. I have many recipes, so if yous ever needs something stronger, you come see me! I'm here to serve you great one!"

"Quite an eager little fellow," Yoshimo commented with a grin, "And interesting it is to here someone address you as _Great One, _my friend. Perhaps I should start doing that too yes?"

"I'd _really_ rather you didn't…" I cast a curious eye at Sarevok. "You wouldn't happen to know anything about this, would you?" He shook his head, but didn't answer.

"Whatever. Well…Cespenar…Uh, we're going to be leaving here soon. Will you…be here when we come back?"

"Oh yes, Cespenar will wait here for you. Whenever you want to come here, you just think _real_ hard about it, and whoosh! Here you be! Maybe I'll have dinner ready for you when you get back! How does roast spider sound?" I was tempted to gag, but that would have been unsightly and bad manners. I swallowed the urge.

"Sounds…great. So, I guess you should just return to your work for the time being."

"Oh yes, I surely will! Cleaning up here! Been away for so long, this place is looking _awfully_ messy!" And off he went, flapping his wings, and began to soar about the room to attend to his duties, humming a little tune.

"It would seem there is much you still don't know about yourself," Keldorn surmised. This was true, with me standing in this pocket plane of my own creation, that was proof enough. And now having a little imp butler, apparently summoned by my will without even trying. "And much about what is happening with your kind. Perhaps we should be on our way. I am anxious to bring an end to this turmoil."

"Agreed." I went around the group one more time, making extra sure we were all ready. We were.

"Sarevok," I asked him, as we approached the portal, "Now that I've past the first challenge, I should be able to use this thing now right?"

"Yes. When we step into it, it will take us where you need to go."

"I'd rather have a bit more control over that, but I guess I don't have a choice. Right, here we go…Stay close everyone."

Entering the portal took a lot of nerve, as readily stepping into a black void can be unsettling. Such darkness can swallow you up if you're not careful. I lead the way, everyone right behind me, as the blackness enveloped us. Then, there was a swoosh of wind, and a surge of magic, almost like a pressure around us. We were mired in darkness for a short time.

Sound came back first, and I could hear the unmistakable noises of combat. Clanging of swords, screams of peril, crashing of siege weapons. Not surprisingly, these noises didn't bother me. Then the smell came in, more or less following on the heels of sound. There was the stench of death, burning, blood, and the pungent smell of fear. It mixed together like an intoxicating cocktail, settling into my mind and…stirring the power in my blood. Satisfying it.

Light began to appear in a blur, raising rapidly. Though my eyes were having difficulty adjusting to the sudden illumination, causing me to blink. There were voices nearby, but not the screaming ones. I could hear them, but it was difficult over the rushing wind in my ears.

"Slay the invaders! Attack!"

I squinted, and was just barely able to make out the incoming axe blade descending on my scalp. My reflexes unconsciously took control, and I crouched, not ducking, but lowering into a wide-legged stance. The axe whipped over me, missing just barely and nearly giving me a haircut.

And because of that close brush with death, my hands reacted on their own accord. Still crouched, I grabbed and drew out the Celestial Fury in a blistering upward drawn cut, as I could make out a dim form of my attacker. There was a shriek and blast of thunder, and I was once again splashed with hot blood.

It was an orc, and I had nearly drawn him in half, his upper torso barely attached to his legs, electricity crackling on the sizable wound. With a pitiful dying groan, it fell, bleeding everywhere. I finally could see again. We were standing at the foot a grand stone castle, which towered over us. We had arrived on the stone stairs, now being colored red by the unfortunate creature. There were others too, three men, and four more orcs, all of whom looked rather angry with me. One human lunged at me with a halberd, an enchanted one by the looks.

He swung it at my stomach, but my sword thwarted his blow, and I slipped in and kicked his legs right out from under him, causing him to fall, clattering down a few steps. He would have regained his feet but Keldorn had planted a foot on his chest, and lowered the Holy Avenger to his throat. Sarevok was right beside me, his daunting sword already pointing in the direction of the enemy. Minsc and Yoshimo joined us, each drawing out their weapons. We didn't advance, but didn't retreat either, our faces grim.

The orcs and remaining man looked ready to attack, but there came a cry. There was a woman rushing up the stairs to us, waving her arms in an attempt to get our attention.

"Hold back your weapons!" she called out to the warriors across form us, with a hint of panic, "These could be allies come to help!" The soldiers gave both her and me skeptical looks. When she arrived, she stood between us, perhaps to halt any hostilities. I noticed that when she looked at me, her eyes widened in surprise. But in a moment, that expression was gone, as she gave us a warm smile.

"I am quite sorry about the hostilities, everyone here is on edge. I am Melissan, a friend. If I am not mistaken, you are Dietrich Vegaz, the Child of Bhaal. If so, then let me be the first to welcome you to Saradush."


	12. Bhaalspawn In Peril

**Chapter 12:** Bhaalspawn In Peril…

I might have been surprised to learn that this Melissan knew my name, but I wasn't. I was, after all, a rather famous fellow, growing even more well-known as time went on. Saving Baldur's Gate from my now reformed brother, saving the Tree of Life from Irenicus, known as the Terror of the Sword Coast…So it was natural for a distinguished guy like me to land smack in the middle of an enormous fiasco, swelling ever larger with each passing moment.

Sarevok had told me that a good portion of the prophecy that I was to take part in was to center around this city in the realm of Tethyr. Though I doubt he knew that it would be in such a deplorable position. After Melissan had intervened between us and the guards, she told us in detail what was going on. It wasn't hard to figure out though, if one was to glance around. Saradush was under siege.

The sounds and smells in the air were enough to easily confirm that. There were the constant screams and moans of the survivors in the city, each passing day being a monumental torment to them, living on in such a situation. The smell of death and fire was everywhere, it was inescapable, shooting up the nostrils and settling there with a reluctance to leave. Decaying bodies littered the streets, drawing swarms of flies and other insects; refuse was piled high, adding to the already almost palpable stench.

Soldiers were rushing through the streets, towards the many walls to join the defenders, to drive back the enemies attempting to scale the walls. Arrows rained over the wall from the outside, and occasionally a large catapult stone bathed in flame came rocketing over the battlements to smash into a building or atop the heads of a few cowering townsfolk, and exploding in a wave of fire. Misery and horror was in the air. I could taste them. They tasted terrible…yet sweet.

Of course, there was more to it that the city merely being under attack. The reason as to why, which we learned, was quite important. It turns out Melissan had been keeping track of many Children of Bhaal over the years, helping them cope with their cursed blood, and trying to aid them in adapting normal lives. Her goal, as she said, was to keep the Lord of Murder from returning in any way, shape, or form. And when the wide spread campaign of destruction began, she had rounded up as many Bhaalspawn as she could find, and fled. And they fled to Saradush.

But somehow, the enemy had gotten wind of it, and now, a vast army had parked itself outside the gates, surrounding it. This army was led by one of the most powerful of Bhaalspawns; one I was almost certain that was in league with Illasera. Yaga-Shura, Child of Bhaal. He knew that there were many Bhaalspawn inside the town, and he had surrounded it, waiting for the walls to be breached and then to slaughter all those who shared his blood.

And as if this wasn't an already tasty situation, but now the so-called leader of Saradush, a Bhaalspawn by the name of General Gromnir Il-Khan had taken that moment to become relieved of his senses. He had locked himself away in the former lord's castle, sealing the doors, and refusing to see anyone or to come out. Without a leader, his soldiers had begun to cause trouble in town. As if they didn't have enough to satisfy them…

"So," Melissan finished, "Before we can do anything about the army outside, Gromnir needs to be talked to. Perhaps you could do this? He won't listen to reason anymore; not even I could get through to him. Perhaps it's because I brought him here, in hopes that he and his Calimshan soldiers could protect his other siblings. He now blames me for the situation."

"You mean this Gromnir's a Bhaalspawn too," I inquired, not finding it much of a surprise.

"Yes he is. And I had hoped that he would prove a reliable safeguard to both this city and all the Children from the relentless pursuers. But…I was foolish to place my trust so fully in him…"

"So," Yoshimo mused lightly, "It would seem that your plan has backfired, as you did not expect for your savior to become unhinged because of the dire circumstances. And even now, your enemies plot the destruction of this place. An unfortunate situation."

"What would you have us do?" Keldorn pressed Melissan, taking that leading role of good that paladins were so known for. In situations like this, despite me more or less being the leader, I would let Keldorn take point. He had _way_ more experience at it than me, after all. Sometimes, I secretly wished that I were traveling in _his_ group, and under different circumstances. That would be an experience indeed.

"I would like you to get into the castle and try and speak to Gromnir. Perhaps one of you can get through his madness, and talk some sense to him. If you cannot, then I fear we will all perish at the hands of Yaga-Shura."

"And how do you propose this," Jaheira asked her, with notable contempt in her tone. I had gotten the feeling that she hadn't taken a liking to Melissan, her mistrusting eyes being very familiar to me. Perhaps it was because Melissan had been meddling in the affair of the gods, taking such an active interest in us Bhaalspawn. Of course to be fair, the Harper's had done such things as well in the past.

"You told us that this Gromnir had sealed the castle so that no one is able to see him. How are we to seek an audience with him, when you yourself cannot be admitted?"

"That I'm afraid I don't know. Surely there is some manner of back way into the palace, but I have yet to find it. Some of the townsfolk here may know of such a thing. But I warn you, there is much hostility and hatred here towards the Bhaalspawn, cursing them for bringing this terror and destruction upon them." I shrugged.

"I've gone through _that_ before, so I'm used to it."

"We will do what we can," Keldorn told her resolutely, "to see this siege ended. We will find a way to talk to Gromnir, and restore order inside the city." No matter who you were, people just were awe-inspired by Keldorn. The guy was noble, strong-willed, fearless, and wise as any sage. You couldn't help but be drawn to him, and hang on his every word. Everyone around us was doing just that. I think I saw one of those orcs from before drooling a bit. Of course, orcs drool anyways so…

My own daze was broken by a shrill scream somewhere in the city, along with a crash. I glanced around to see another new fire burning.

"And I think we'd better do it quick. I'm willing to bet that this Yaga-Shura isn't going to take a break while we're trying to negotiate. Any idea how long before they come pouring in here?" Melissan glanced up and around at the walls surrounding the city. The guardsmen were fighting valiantly, repelling these foul invaders, but it was clearly a losing battle.

"I have no idea. It could be today, or two weeks from now. I can only urge you to move quickly, as eventually they _will_ break through, and it will be the end for us all."

I had a hunch that I wasn't the only one who wished to disdainfully thank her for _inspiring_ us with confidence, but no one spoke.

"I suppose we'd better get cracking then. I'll do what I can with Gromnir, but I can't promise anything. I've not had a lot of luck dealing with madmen."

Melissan thanked me, before heading off into the city, to aid the common people and the frightened Children of Bhaal, as she had been doing.

And once again, a daunting task had been thrust upon my shoulders. No surprise there. I was always being called on to do such things. Not that it was my biggest concern at the moment. As a Bhaalspawn myself, my head was just a sought after as all the others in the city. But that's not what motivated me. Like previous dangerous missions I had been a part of in the past, I had my own reasons for taking this task now.

I knew that this whole city was suffering just like the ones that assuredly came before it, all because of us Bhaalspawn. True enough it wasn't my fault _directly_, but regardless, being a Child of Bhaal, even though not by choice, was the reason all this chaos had risen on the Sword Coast. To know that this destruction was tied to me, making me a responsible party, it made me feel guilty. Not the first time either.

I had resolved myself to help the people of this city, both the commoner and my siblings alike, because I both felt obligated to do something to right the wrongs I'd caused just by having been born. And also, it was just the sort of guy I was. I will not stand by and watch innocent people suffer. As Illasera had said to me before I killed her, such compassion and selflessness was certainly an unfitting trait for a Child of Bhaal. But it seemed like it was something that I alone had, which made me different. And it was a trait that I prided far above any of the unnatural abilities of my malevolent blood.

"So!" Minsc cried out, trusting a fist into the smoke-filled sky, "We must sneak ourselves inside, and to show this mad general the wrongness of his ways, and set him back on the path of right! _Sigh_…Minsc is very glad that he isn't mad, oh yes, that would mean we would be all angry, and that wouldn't do here, no sir! But not to worry! Detrack will surely set him straight, of this Boo has _no_ doubt!"


	13. Troubles of Town

**Chapter 13:** Troubles of Town

"I am sorry my friend," Yoshimo half apologized, "But I do not see any way around this." He was currently squatted in front of the locking mechanism to the primary gate of the castle in Saradush; the one Gromnir was holed up in. All the known entrances had been sealed shut, and no one could meet with him. And seeing as it was now my job to go in there and see if I couldn't coax his mentally unstable head out of there, we needed to find a way in.

I hadn't expected to just pick the main lock, and enter just like that, but I sure would have liked things to be that simple for once. After all, Gromnir was paranoid, and obviously didn't want the doors so easily opened by a simple passing thief.

Nonetheless, I asked Yoshimo to take a look. He had gotten us into and out of many places and dangers before, sidestepping cunning traps, and unlocking near impenetrable doors.

"So…" I pressed, wondering what it was that had our lockpicker stumped. "Is it too tricky, or something else?"

"The design is most unfamiliar, having a very intricate and overly large set of gears. I do not think any of my tools would work. And unless my sense of danger has diminished as of late, I believe these have been trapped with a great many spells. Tampering with it could be very hazardous to both you and me…There is no telling how powerful they are either; it is possible they could very easily blow this city up if it were strong enough."

"I doubt Gromnir would want to blow himself up, just to keep possible invaders out."

"Do not forget," Jaheira reminded me, "That Melissan said he was mad…If so, madmen have no regard of life, their own or anyone's. Situations such as that are very hazardous."

"Good point," I agreed. Still, I didn't want to have to crawl all over this crumbling town to try and find some secret door into this castle, just to try and reason with a deranged man. I was still holding hope out for that door. "Do you think Keldorn could dispel the traps, so that you could work on it?"

"I wish it were that simple, but one cannon dispel traps…they must be disarmed, and that is a tricky business. If they were strong, then I'm afraid that only a wizard could do it."

"Well, I don't suppose you'd care to take a look?" I glanced back at Jaheira.

She answered my question with a straight-faced stare. I recognized it well. In the past, I had often times asked her if she could use her powers to do this or that. Though she wielded formidable offensive and support magic's, which had saved our lives many times before, she wasn't fluent in matters of the arcane. As she had disdainfully told me many times before, "I am _not_ a sorceress!" She didn't say it this time…not out loud anyway. Her expression spoke for her and I got the message.

"Right. Well then…what about force? Just tearing the door off its hinges? Would that disrupt the traps?" Yoshimo gave me a raised eyebrow, perhaps silently wondering why everything I did ended with violence. He carefully seemed to consider the matter, as it was probably something he had never attempted himself. Fresh ground, so to speak.

"Well," he answered, thoughtfully thinking out the mechanics of traps and wards, "It is _possible_ they would go off, but most traps are to spring when the door is opened, not torn from its hinges. It may disrupt their settings…"

"That's enough for me. Sarevok, Minsc, lets try it." Both of them stood next to me, and we all grasped the door. They were far larger than I was, so I looked rather out of placed between them. We yanked and pulled at the handle and hinges, but the door didn't so much as tremble. I sighed.

"Guess that means we aren't going in the front. Meaning we'll have to find another way. Any ideas?"

"Melissan told us that perhaps the native townsfolk may know of an alternate entrance," Keldorn reminded me, "I believe that we should ask around." At this, I looked across the town before us, in all its smoldering ruin.

"Let's hope there's still someone alive out there that we can ask."

We left the main doors, and began heading into the cluster of scorched buildings that had made up the common section of the town before the siege. It was hard to not gag, the smell of the place was horrid, the unmistakable stench of death and corrosion piercing our nostrils mercilessly. Only Sarevok didn't mind it, his expression a simple mask of vague emotions. Not only that, but the whole bleak position of this town wasn't inspiring me with much confidence. It was teetering on the razor edge of annihilation…dangerous odds.

We passed several scrambling townsfolk, who had to hustle between building to building to avoid any incoming projectiles.

"This place is making poor Boo's fur stand on end," Minsc commented, "I have not seen him so squirrelly in a long time!" He was holding the quivering animal to his chest, who did indeed look rather stressed out. The noxious air probably had him all nervous.

"I would suggest that you keep him hidden," Jaheira warned, "In sieges like this, humans are not above devouring their own pets and other creatures just to stay alive. Just another reason that I hate cities…" She was gazing around, her eyes turning cheerless. "Yet another site of turmoil," her voice soft, no doubt hinting towards the ensuing chaos. "So many left dead…and for what? There is no right in this; it is an outrage to Nature herself. And there is more to come, I am sure. It is maddening…"

I listened as she was talking, nodding and absorbing her words. I knew it to be true myself…But there wasn't much I could do, except what lay in front of me.

My eyes wandered about as they had a tendency to do, trying to observe anything of interest. From the corner of my vision, I saw something…bright. It was almost upon us…

_"SCATTER!"_ I yelled, and I seized Jaheira by the shoulders, much to her startlement, and pushed her and myself to the ground, throwing myself on top to shield her. There was a crash behind us, as pieces of the stone street and flaming debris went spiraling everywhere. We had all nearly been the victims of a burning catapult stone. Too close…

I uncovered my head, and scouted around…Minsc and Keldorn had ducked into a nearby decapitated house, Sarevok choosing to roll out of danger, and Yoshimo was inexplicably sitting in a barrel off to the side, half full of water. An odd choice.

"Are you okay?" I asked Jaheira, looking down at her. She was rubbing her head, having cracked it on the ground, but she nodded. "I'm fine…except…for…" I leaned in closer, hoping that she hadn't been hurt. "Except for…" I pressed.

"Except for being…well, pinned down…" I was suddenly aware that I was lying on top of her, and began to feel a bit awkward. I at once pulled back, and offered her a hand to let her up. She was blushing, and I could feel that I was too. Awkward.

"Ahem…" I tried to get back to the topic at hand, "I'm thinking that we might want to split up and see if we can't find a way into the castle. I don't think we're going to run into too many people out here. Surely there's a tavern or something nearby? Or a temple?"

"Well, unless my eyes have at long last succeeded in deceiving me," Yoshimo pointed a ways down the main street, past the mounds of bodies and debris, "But that appears to be an establishment of drinks. Tavern owners tend to have good tips…Should we investigate yes?"

"Before we do that," Keldorn spoke, "I would like to find a temple, if there is still one standing. I feel compelled to say a prayer on holy ground for this city…It seems that even the gods have forsaken this place in this time of turmoil."

"Well, how about we split up…" I scanned everyone in my group. It was hard to determine who Sarevok went with, as most everyone wasn't very fond of him. "Yoshimo, you and Sarevok go to the tavern, and see if you can't find out something about the castle." Yoshimo gave a grin, and tapped Sarevok on the arm guard.

"Very well. And this shall be an excellent opportunity for me to acquaint myself better with yet another of you peculiar Bhaalspawn. Come my armored friend, let us go!" Sarevok gave me a disdainful expression, perhaps thinking that I was punishing him. He stalked off after the Kozakuran.

"Minsc," I went on, turning to the ranger, "you go with Keldorn to the temple. Maybe they have something there to calm Boo down. I can see his fur is standing on end…"

"And you?" Keldorn inquired lightly, raising a white bushy eyebrow. I caught his meaning, and pivoted my gaze down to Jaheira. She had a similar expression.

"Don't know yet. I'm making this up as I go. Maybe we can catch a townsperson who isn't fleeing in terror. A local might know the layout of this city better than the soldiers. And maybe we can find a store or something. Doubtful though…"

This satisfied Keldorn, who nodded, and both he and Minsc went off in search of a temple. That left me with Jaheira. Of course, now was certainly not the time or place for romance, with all the death and mayhem around us. Hardly even the time for witty comments that I was so clever about making. But there was much to speak of.

"Melissan," Jaheira said out of nowhere, "She spoke of her noble self-sacrificing intensions, but how do we know we can trust her? Anyone meddling in these affairs should be viewed with suspicion. There are many who would capitalize on this chaos. It would be best to be wary of her."

"Actually," I answered her, keeping one eye overhead to watch for more projectiles, "I don't trust her."

"So you suspect she is hiding something?"

"I wouldn't be surprised, but it's not as though I am singling her out. I've learned it's not wise to trust so freely." I gave her a sideways grin. "I could tell _you_ didn't take a shine to her. Why is that?"

"I don't like the way she looks at you. She has a look of interest; perhaps to use you as a tool…It would not be the first time. And it bothers me to have another look at you with such awareness."

"Jealous?" I teased lightly, to which she responded with a dour look stating, "Focus please."

"All I am suggesting," she went on curtly, "is that in such a delicate situation, caution is well advised. For you own safety."

"Words of wisdom…And ones I'll certainly take to heart." My words seemed to satisfy her, as we continued on through the grim ruins that once were called Saradush.

We didn't encounter too many people as we went on. A few stray children dashing for cover, a drunk, too inebriated to know what was happening, nearly tripping over a maggot infested corpse, and several soldiers, both Saradush militia and Calimshan patrolling or making their way to the walls. However, we did happen upon a standing group, hidden from the street behind a decaying house. Several soldiers, orcs among their ranks were standing menacingly in front of a small band of elves, men and women who were cowering at the harsh words being directed their way.

"What's all this," I questioned loudly, getting everyone's attention. The elves turned towards us, their faces pale and their eyes tired, and their tattered appearance seemed very unbecoming of an elf. The guards had the Calimshan symbols, meaning they were Gromnir's men, clear enough at how they turned their scowling ugly gazes toward me, and interested and uncouth looks towards Jaheira.

"What this is ain't none of your business, scrawny pipsqueak," the leader of the goons snapped at me with a grunt, "these elves ain't meant to be in here, but since they are, we figured they'd pay rent…"

"But we have _nothing_ to offer," one of the elven men pleaded, "Please, we are simple travelers, caught in this horrid place and…"

"Horrid place?" one of the other hoodlum's snarled, "You got a lot of nerve to be sayin' that! 'Specially since ya ain't welcome here anyways! An' we're thinkin' that ya might got somethin' that we'll take as payment. Why not run alone, and leave ya women with us. We'll give'em back in a bit, and then we calls it even…"

"I have a better idea," I spoke, breaking in, having heard more than enough to size up the situation. "How about you leave these elves alone, and I don't bust your heads open. Fair enough?" The solution I submitted must not have been very agreeable, for the leader strode forward, and seized my cloak with a rather dirty hand, yanking me forward.

"That's some mouth ya got, shrimp," he told me with a nasty look in his eyes, "An' just for that, I'm thinkin' I need to rearrange ya face for ya…" I wasn't in the mood to be pawed at by a lowlife like him. My own hands came up, and grabbed _him_ by the collar, broke his hold of me, and with no small amount of shock in his eyes, I lifted him clear off the ground. I may not have been superhumanly strong like Sarevok, but I was certainly more powerful than my appearance would suggest.

"And _I'm_ thinking," I retorted grimly, "that unless you'd like to see what happens when you make a Child of Bhaal angry, then you'll do as I say and clear off. _Now!"_ The speech was impressive, but all I really had to say was the word Bhaalspawn and that was enough to scare the fight out of him and his pack of cronies.

"Bhaalspawn," he gulped, looking moments away from loosing his bladder, "Look, we were just havin' some fun…You know, blowin' off some steam. We'll leave'em alone alright?" I gave him a long stare, then set him back down. His cohorts looked to be just as uneasy at my presence. They took flight moments later.

"My thanks for your help," the elven man offered me his gratitude, "Such beastly conduct they exhibit, even when there is such a deplorable situation beyond the walls."

"Don't mention it. I suggest you find some shelter, else one of those passing catapult stones might land on you."

"We shall, and thanks again." Now, without having to worry about molestation, the elves hurried through the nearest alleyway, to find a suitable shelter. I readjusted my cloak, wiping the dirt from it, and we began to move again.

"Quite a display," Jaheira said aloud as we walked. I took her meaning. Even before I knew her, I had a tendency to try and curve my own bloodlust. I was trained to fight and kill, that's true, but I never liked it. If at all possible, I would have liked to fight without killing, but alas the world is not so simple, and its people often unreasonable.

It was clear that I could have started a fight with those men, and killed them, but to see me fight against my own inner darkness was something that relieved Jaheira. In the long months we had spent together, we had grown to be quite close, and she had sacrificed much because of her belief in me. To succumb to the twisted wiles of my heritage now would have been shameful betrayal of both her and myself.

In the end, we didn't happen upon anything of interest. No one would stand more than a moment to talk with us. I barely got my name out before whoever we stopped would fearfully run for their lives. It was frustrating. After circling the town twice, holding our breath most of the way, we met up with both Minsc and Keldorn. The temple had provided a suitable place for Keldorn to make a prayer for the city, and Boo had been calmed with a Bless spell. Peculiar, but who am I to question it?

We had sent Yoshimo and Sarevok towards a tavern and after backtracking a ways, we caught sight of it. I didn't see the hulking mountain that was my brother, but standing outside was his shorter counterpart.

"Ah, there you are," Yoshimo called waving, "We have been waiting." As we got closer, he could tell that we weren't in the brightest of spirits, what with our lackluster expression. "No luck in discovering any information?"

"Information?" I scoffed, "I couldn't even get a person's name, let alone how to get into the castle."

"I see…" Then, with a grin, the Kozakuran gestured inside. "Come, our large friend is reserving a table for us with his commanding presence. And I think I may have some news that might cheer you up…"


	14. Neck Nibbling

**Chapter 14: **Neck-Nibbling

"You're kidding…right?" I questioned, leaning forward, nearly choking on my drink. Our sly and cunning thief gave me a sunny smile, raising his eyebrow.

We had entered the tavern, the Tankard Tree I believe, and had found two dead bodies. More of Gromnir's soldiers, having been mangled severely by a familiar huge sword. Turns out though that Sarevok hadn't just slaughtered them for kicks; turns out they had been asking for it, harassing a waitress with vulgar comments.

Whether Sarevok came to her defense, the soldiers didn't like his look and simply attacked, or something else entirely transpired, I couldn't say. I guess it would remain a mystery. We found him at a table, all the other occupants of the room having abandoned their own seats to move as far away from him as they could. The bar itself was densely packed and overcrowded.

We sat, and ordered some drinks, though we weren't expecting the highest of quality. It wasn't, but it was satisfying enough. In the midst of the drinking, I pressed Yoshimo for this heartening news he had promised. He spilled the beans, and while it was good, I couldn't say I was happy about it.

"But why not?" he asked, a light grin on his face, "It does pose a _bit_ of danger, of course, but it is a simple plan, and the only lead we have. Besides, it's not as though we are asking you to face a dragon all by your lonesome. Nor is it something anyone of us doubt you are capable of handling. You have proven to be quite resilient in the past."

"Yoshimo," I groaned, not liking where this conversation was going, "That's _not_ the issue here. You want me to be _bait_ for vampires! Vampires! You _know_ how much I hate those blood-sucking freaks…Ack, now I'm feeling all jittery." It was no secret as to why. In dealing with Bodhi and her numerous thralls a ways back, I had been drained of my life-force more than once, and had been seduced by those mesmerizing eyes a time too many. I have a distinct displeasure of being relieved of my own senses.

In the midst of their own investigation of the tavern, Yoshimo had learned from a crazed man running around the place that the courtesans of the city had been replaced with vampires, who lure their customers away to feed upon their lives. So terrified was he about this that when asked more about it, he had run off. He did blab our something about the jail.

And furthermore, an old man, a retired Saradush soldier who was deep into his cups had known of a way into the castle, hidden in the city lockup. Useful information, though a bit questionable. A drunk and a lunatic…Not the most reliable of sources.

"So, the city prison is supposed to have a passage way into the castle?" Keldorn inquired, "Into the basement?"

"Indeed, if the word of the old man is to be believed," Yoshimo gestured towards an elderly fellow, now snoozing on a nearby table, having drunk himself into a stupor. "Though he was not exactly sober, and his age may put his memory into question, he spoke very knowingly about it. I believe it is accurate. It is somewhere in the jail he said."

"They why do I have to become bait?" I pressed, eager to avoid that unsavory possibility, "If we know _where_ it is, then all we have to do is bust the door down and tear the place apart. And if there are vampires, we will destroy them."

"Yes!" Minsc cried out, my passion of doing things the direct and destructive way against the vampires seemed to fill him with enthusiasm. "We need not use tricks to slither around like giant slimy worms as those evil creatures! We will apply the tissue of justice to the sinister runny nose of wickedness with our swords, not with words! And Boo shall have their eyes on a long pointy stick before the night is over!"

"Admirable," Yoshimo complemented Minsc, "But vampires are wiser than that to allow simple folks from breaking down the doors to their private havens. From what the madman had yelled earlier, they have a ward over the door, allowing only themselves and their prey to enter. We would not be able to enter through force. But if someone was taken into their lair, and dispatched them, they might find a way to lower the ward."

"Their foul defenses would not keep me at bay for long," Keldorn reassured him. "If I were to lead the charge, I believe they would be hard-pressed to hold their ground."

"An interesting point," Yoshimo mused, "But, and I certainly don't wish for anyone to think that I am merely trying to second-guess everyone's suggestions, but it is far more than merely one or two of these creatures. It sounds more like a whole den of them. True your power is commendable, but if they were to sense your approach…"

"Then they could perhaps lay some manner of trap for you," Jaheira finished, catching the thief's drift. "And a prison is confined, meaning we could only enter one at a time. If they are able to pierce your defenses, and you fell….No, it is not worth the risk. And having Dietrich go in alone is no better."

"We shall find another way," Sarevok broke in suddenly, his expression cold, "It is not a wise plan. Dietrich will be putting himself at great risk all for a possible rumor of a madman and the word of a half-dead drunk. That is not enough valid information to wager his life with." Jaheira humphed at that, crossing her arms, and violet eyes narrowing.

"It is laughable to hear _you_ speak of worry about someone _other_ than yourself." I sighed, downing the rest of my drink. The bickering was going nowhere, and I knew how this was going to end anyway. So, I just came out with it.

"Alright, I'll do it."

"What?" Jaheira cried out, hardly letting the words fade from the air, "You mustn't be so rash! We must think calmly and find a _different_ solution. There is no need to do this." I shook my head.

"But there is...there _is_ a need. We already have a plan; one that I _know_ will work, regardless of my distaste for it. And we are sort of pressed for time, as who knows when these walls will broken through. The only reason we're sitting here wasting time is because I have a certain amount of discomfort about those things…With that huge army outside, I can't exactly justify my piddling apprehension when so many people's lives are at stake."

"But you are _aware_ what they are capable of," Jaheira pressed me, with that famous concern of hers, "If we _are_ to intentionally send someone down into the undead's clutches, why not send _him_?" and pointed to Sarevok. "He would undoubtedly _enjoy_ the thrill of slaying them…and should be capable of…surviving." Sarevok gave her a half-sneer, but his face became expressionless when he turned to me.

"I could do it." I scrutinized him, then reached out, and put my bare hand over his, squeezing it. One of his eyebrows rose at this action. Everyone else at the table stared at me, with bewildered expressions. After a moment, I shook my head.

"That won't work. You'd be able to hack them apart yes, but they wouldn't take you." Before anyone could speculate as to why, the answer came.

"Because he is dead," Jaheira understood, the laws of nature not passing her by. "His blood is cold, and there is hardly any life for them to feed on. They would need someone more vital to be their prey."

"Someone like _me_," I sighed, rubbing my neck, as if anticipating a nasty fanged bite. "A half-god…I remember Bodhi telling me that she looked forward to having a taste, as I was a rare treat. I'd be the perfect mark for them…Hmm, speak of the devil…"

Everyone looked around, and caught sight of the much-debated vampires. Maybe. Several courtesans, both male and female entered the tavern, giving a passing wave to the scruffy round man behind the bar, then began to saunter among the local dregs, who were drinking their troubles away. They didn't act very peculiar, behaving like typical courtesans, rather normal all in all. But the hard lesson of vampires…you just _can't_ be sure until they sink their teeth in. Hopefully, it wouldn't get that far with me.

"Okay," I leaned in, gathering my companions attention, "You all leave, then find a place to stake out the jail entrance. I'll probably be _escorted_ that way. I'll enter, then dispatch whoever is keeping the ward in place. After that, we'll move en mass to find this secret entrance." Everyone seemed ready to make either objections or comments, but I waved my hand, and glanced around.

"Don't worry, I'll be fine. With as much practice as I've had killing these things, it should be simple. Now get out of here…you're scaring all the fish away." Everyone exchanged glances, but conceded to my request. Before she left, Jaheira leaned in, and gave me a small kiss on the cheek.

"Be wary," was all she said, and she left. It pained me to see her go.


	15. The Call of Blood

**Chapter 15:** The Call of Blood

With me being alone, all I had to do was wait. A strapping young warrior like me…It wouldn't take long for one of them to notice me. Especially if they knew _what_ I was.

All this talk of vampires brought back some unpleasant memories for me, stirring in my mind like an infected disease. Bodhi, that confident and conceited bitch…How she and her damnable brother had robbed me and…and Imoen of our souls…Yet another person I cared for left dead…All because of me. I started to feel sick.

"Hey there handsome," My inner sorrow was broken, and I had to swallow down my urge to retch. I looked around, and just like I had surmised, a woman courtesan had gracefully stepped over, her lithe and sparingly clothed form sitting on the edge of my table, giving me a pleasing view.

"You seem to be here all alone…Must be pretty lonely…" I gave her a look of intrigue, though my actual reaction would have been more of a wince. If I had known she wasn't a vampire, I _might_ have been interested. She was pale, with long lovely raven hair sweeping past her shoulders, and very sharp features. Not to mention that she had a very desirable body, so I could see how this form could _easily_ lure men to their deaths with ease.

"Yeah," I agreed, playing my part of the interested customer, "It's pretty dreary in here. Not a lot to keep a guy occupied."

"So I see. Well, if you'd like some company to pass the evening, I'm sure that I could accommodate you. For a small fee…I could take all those feelings of loneliness away. How does that sound?" Simple playful dialogue, just like the numerous other courtesans that had approached me in the past. This one knew how to act the role.

"That sounds like the just the thing I need. How much?"

"Oh, for you…Let's say twenty…Gold isn't going to mean much if this siege goes on any longer…"

"I hear that," finding it true myself. I produced twenty gold, betting I'd be getting it back shortly. She pocketed it like a pro, before _accidentally_ letting her already loose dress slip a little, giving me a clear view. I felt inclined to look, but felt nothing.

"Come with me," she instructed, offering me a hand, "I know a more…private place to get aquatinted."

_Yeah_, I thought, _I'll bet you do…_

We left the Tankard Tree, and we hurried through the decaying streets, and towards a building with bars across the windows. The jail. So far, the information had been accurate. As she was fiddling with the door, I tossed a glance around, hopping to spot my crew in hiding. I didn't see them. But then, since Yoshimo was in charge of their concealment, I doubt I could have found them with a torch and a pack of hunting hounds. What can I say, the guy is good at his job.

The rickety door clicked open, and she motioned me to follow. I did, and predictably, the door sealed shut behind us. The guard's station was lit with a few scattered torches, giving the interior of this place a foreboding look, rather than a desirable place to bed with a woman. A perfect haunt for undead blood-suckers…

I was led into one of the now unoccupied jailcells, to one of the dirty prisoner's beds. I have no idea as to why, but I found myself wondering how many dead men had slept in that bed. Once we sat down, she started to get real friendly, her fingers starting to pull off my cloak. Which was clasped by my neck…

"Here," she whispered, scooting closer; I could feel her supple body press against mine through the robes, "Let me feel you…Let me…taste you…" This only served to creep me out further. I knew this creature was hungry for my blood, and was wrapping herself around me to get it. Heh…embraced by evil…a rather familiar feeling for me. Of course, when compared to the evil within me…this creature was _nothing_.

"Shall I loosen my collar?" I inquired with complete control, "So that you might have better access to my neck?" I could feel her recoil at my words, a shiver that was slight but still felt.

"Whatever do you mean?" she murmured quietly into my ear, her voice like soft music, and I could feel a familiar fog descending on my mind. This one was strong; she didn't even need to look into my eyes. But I was aware of the attempt of charm, and I fought.

"You crave Bhaal-blood, don't you?" I asked her, acting almost innocent, "The blood of the gods is sweet nectar isn't it?"

This time, she didn't just recoil, but rather her hands turned into clamps, seizing me harshly. She knew her cover was blown.

"Sweet indeed," she cooed, there now being a hint of undead in her voice, as an after-tone, "And we shall have every last drop of it godchild!" I knew what was coming. The straining teeth. Unfortunately for her, I had been waiting for this. She had done me a favor in loosening my robes to try and further her act, as I was able to slip out of them and at the same time, her iron grip as well.

I nimbly hopped back into the main entryway, where there was more room to move about, and crouched as she threw aside my cloak in fury. "Fool!" she screeched, no longer hiding her true nature, "You'll not flee from here now!" And from around us, several other doors to the jail opened up, each having yet another vampire behind it. I was suddenly surrounded by four of them.

"Who's fleeing?" I asked them aloud, drawing both my swords. "I think you'd better be the ones doing the fleeing, lest I get angry."

They hissed in reply, raising their clawed hands, poised to strike. The tension was mounting…

I consider myself a master warrior, able to deal lethal damage in the blink of an eye, and fight a horde of enemies single handedly. I'm calm and careful, whilst my enemies are often clumsy and careless. However, in the rarest of instances, I'll forsake my many long hours of poised training, and succumb to my aggressive nature, initiating the combat myself with a charge. This was one such instance. When surrounded, with no hope of backup, I'd have to overwhelm them, and keep _them_ on the defensive. And the only way to do that was to attack them first. Hard and fast.

The one on my left was the closest, so I started with him. As they were still being wary about approaching me, I darted to my left, and buried the Equalizer into the vampire's guts, whilst the Celestial Fury swung higher up, slicing the upper part of it's head off. It never knew what hit it, but it shrieked all the same, its body writhing about on my sword, as its insides were being vaporized. The other took this as a signal, and came at me.

I pulled my blade free, then crouched low, pushing off the ground to roll backward, causing two to stumble over me. The last one, my courtesan for the evening lunged at me as I regained my feet, her fangs glimmering with their sharpness. I leaned back, and she went sailing past me, falling atop her associates. Whilst they struggled to regain their feet, I pointed my katana towards them, and emitted a loud word that was inscribed upon the hilt. There was a blistering flash, and a crackling bolt of lightning launched from the razor tip, and exploded upon my undead attackers with a crashing thunderclap, which blew out one of the walls.

The collective scream of them all in that echoing passage was harsh and chilling; undoubtedly heard beyond the confines of the jail walls. I wonder if my friends outside heard it. Regardless of how painful and physically destructive getting struck by lightning is, it wasn't enough to drop them. All told, about one and a half vampires rose again, each one missing limbs and/or sizable pieces of their bodies. Not to mention that they were still smoking. But none of them looked to be in any condition to keep attacking. I almost mercifully slew them.

I was about to go over their bodies, looking for maybe a wardstone or something, when I heard the barest of whispers, and felt a sharp stab of pain on my shoulder. Another one of the bastards had slipped into the room as mist, and sang his teeth into my shoulder, with a look of absolute enrapture.

Almost immediately, I started to feel my very life being sucked away. My head started to grow heavy, my legs and arms stiffening…_NO!_…_I not about to succumb to this!_

"Get…_OFF!"_ And with a shout I threw both my body and the vampire attached to me against the wall, jostling his teeth free of my flesh. I then whirled around, and sliced the hell out of it, cleaving its head down the middle. It fell, and I coaxed myself into breathing.

I almost wasn't able counter the second bite, but I faintly heard it coming over my panting of sudden fatigue, and intensely beating heart. It came rushing in from the dark, arms outstretched, teeth open wide, but I turned to face it, and pulled away. All it got was a mouthful of cloth, growling in frustration. The next sound it made was a gasping, as I fed it something far tastier, the business end of the Equalizer.

As this one was choking and gagging around my sword, I wasn't able to hear the others, until I felt two more sets of teeth close on me, one on my leg, the other on my arm. I yelled, and fought off the rising images of me being sucked dry, and the sense of weakness spreading across my body. I drove the chisel point of the Celestial Fury down into the skull of the thing attached to my leg, and gutted the other one attached to my left arm. They fell away…

And five more came up behind them. And I could sense more approaching. _This isn't just a den…This is a blasted infestation of the things._ I kept swinging, striking at anything that moved within range. I dropped two more for sizable wounds.

Three more materialized from clouds of mist, raising their clawed hands to me. I was starting to get annoyed. _How many of these damn things must I hack down?_ And even as the ones in front of me dropped, I could sense more approaching. My heart was starting to pump faster, my blood rushing, rising upward. A heat was beginning to engulf me, a warm glowing heat, but I didn't care. The effects of the vampire's bite felt dull and were fading, so I let it grow…welcoming it.

My vision faded to yellow…

_X X X_

X X X

X X X

_Dark…Things are dark…I can hear it. A voice. It's loud. And important…_

_**Kill**_…I could hear it…feel the blood pumping through my body, harder, harder…_**Kill now!**_

_I don't want to…_

_**You do…You do want to…Now kill…**_

_But it's wrong…_

_**Wrong? For you to be killed by these creatures…That is wrong…**_

_I…I guess…_

_**Good…Now kill…**_

…_Okay…_

_X X X_

X X X

X X X

I can see it…My swords…they're…cutting vampires. A lot of them…Killing them…A lot of blood. Blood is good. Death is good. Limbs flying…Screaming…

_They're running…retreating…I've won…_

_**No…They live… More…More to do…**_

_But they're leaving…I don't need to…_

_**You do…They need to die…They should die…**_

_They should?_

_**Oh yes…They are just fodder…weaklings should be killed…**_

_But…_

_**No more excuses! Don't let them leave alive! Kill them all! SLAUGHTER THEM ALL!**_

_X X X_

X X X

X X X

I went on…hacking limbs and slashing bodies…arms going numb. Not sure how many I…I killed.

I couldn't stop, my body felt heavy, my blood itself controlling my limbs. I was vaguely aware of the screams around me, and the crashing…and I had as much of the cold undead blood as I desired, splashing in my face, passing my lips, and coursing down my throat, in torrents, mouthful after mouthful.

_I'm __**drinking**__ blood_…my own aghast mind screamed in revulsion. At this terrible realization, intruding upon my bloodlust, I felt blackness slip over me…

_X X X_

X X X

X X X

In a slow blur, my senses began to return. I could feel my body, sore and stiff; I felt weak, tired, the taste of cold copper on my mouth. I raised my bleary eyes. I wasn't alone.

"By the gods," Jaheira breathed in both concern and horror, "What happened?" I didn't answer. I don't think I could have. I felt my swords slip out of my hands. My blood stained hands. They clatter to the stone floor, now violently painted a ghastly dark crimson. I could vaguely hear Keldorn saying a quiet prayer, and Minsc was shielding Boo's eyes. No sign of Yoshimo.

My eyesight returned fully…I was staring down at the floor…But I wanted to look away. I was peering deep into a pool of blood. I didn't want to see any more blood. But it was useless…No matter where I looked, I'd see it. It was splattered all over the room, on the walls and ceiling, the cots of nearby jailcells soaking in it.

I didn't want to look at my friends, didn't want them to look at me. My eyes turned up…

I could feel my blood chill…just behind my friends were two luminous yellow eyes staring out from the darkness…_No…Not again!_ Before I could loose control, there was a shuffle, as the eyes advanced, and my brother brushed past everyone, stepping into the dull light. I hadn't even noticed…The sinister yellow eyes; the very ones that had haunted me since the first time I ever laid eyes on him, back when he killed Gorion, were still there. In the light, I guess I hadn't noticed it but in the dark, they shone out with all their inhuman fury. I swallowed.

He laid a hand on my unwounded shoulder, looking me over, somewhat ungently pulling me about and checking the bloodstains on my clothes and skin.

"He is injured," Sarevok bluntly stated, sounding rather unfeeling and unworried, "And has been bitten several times. He needs a cleric."

"How concerned you sound," Jaheira almost mocked him, as she moved past him, hastening to my side, "Look closer…Sometimes the injury is not always of the body."

Her voice was cross, but she gently stepped out, resting a hand on either of my shoulders.

"Dietrich," I could hear her speak, but her voice felt distant, muted, "_Dietrich_…look at me!" I lifted my foggy eyes, staring into her worried ones. "Are you alright?"

I could still taste the blood, so foul and cold, yet a sweet aftertaste. Just another thing to make me exceedingly ill. But for some reason, it didn't. I tried to gag, to vomit, to summon even the slightest amount of revulsion at what I had done. Nothing came. Nothing at all. I would have much rather had the alternative.

"I'm…fine…"


	16. The Secret Passage

**Chapter 16:** The Secret Passage

"This is no jail…This is a labyrinth," Jaheira commented dryly as we passed yet another row of dust filled cells. A reasonable comparison, the size of this jail was sprawling, with a near limitless supply of cells and guard stations. It made me wonder as to why Saradush had need for so many cells. Surely there couldn't have been that many troublemakers?

"I believe it is to confound prisoners if they find an opportunity to escape," Yoshimo brought in his opinion with a smile, even the dank surroundings not dampening his mood. "I have been an occupant of a place such as this before, and it was near impossible to find ones way out. A tricky puzzle to foil attempted jail breaks."

"And what were you doing in a place such as this?" Keldorn asked from behind, his voice wafting up. "Practicing your questionable talents I assume?" Yoshimo turned a sheepish grin back.

"Ah, but Sir Keldorn, you know I would never think to do things such as that, and as it was, I was falsely committed of a much more…embarrassing crime. I admit to being a bit of a scoundrel from time to time, but even I would never to think to bed with the unspoiled daughter of a high ranking magistrate of a certain unnamable city. I merely was in the vicinity at the time, and I was thought to be the criminal. And as a result, I was tossed into a prison cell for something that I would never do."

"Sometimes I wonder," Keldorn went on to say, but fell silent.

"It wouldn't have been a very pleasurable stay for me if I hadn't found it wise for me to make a miraculous escape in the night. I had to smuggle myself out of the city in a barrel of pickled corn. Not a very comfortable transport, nor a very appetizing smell, but it was either that or have a long period of time before I saw the outside world again. Naturally, you can of course see what course I took. And because of that, you my friends can take delight in my pleasurable company!"

I was quiet amidst the banter, and this story from our colorful rouge could only bring the barest hints of a smile to my face. We hadn't gone any further after I…came to. We returned to the tavern, and I asked the barkeep if he had a place where I could wash. He looked very terrified of me, covered in blood, and shakily pointed to a washroom. It was no surprise that after seeing me, most people among the bar decided to leave their drinks unconsumed.

There was no clean water in the place, all of it having long since turned stale and pungent, but I wanted the smell of blood off me. If it was a choice between the smell of mildew, vomit, and feces next to blood…well, it was, and I didn't take blood. After a sleep riddled with cloudy images of blood and death, I woke, not feeling much better. Breakfast consisted of stale bread, muddy water, and some sort of meat. I didn't want to guess from what animal.

We also stopped by the local temple, still standing even in the midst of all the catapulting, and the ill-effects of the vampire bites fell away, making me feel better. A little.

Now that the vampires were…disposed of, we reentered the jail. I pretended not to notice all of the dry blood, the questionable marks of what looked to be someone having dragged something through a pool of blood, smears and grisly reminders. I put a hand up to my eyes, as I passed. No one said anything.

What followed was even more silence, as we began to tramp our way through the endless passages and tunnels, all the while looking intently for this secret passage. I was fairly certain that it wasn't going to be simple to find…A secret passage wasn't going to be marked with a sign, proclaiming in large letters, "Secret Passage into the Castle!", showing the way. We'd have to use our keen perceptions and knowledge of past encounters with secret doors to find this one.

Sarevok led the way, as he was seemingly able to see without the need of light, perhaps of his glowing eyes. Jaheira was behind, her staff radiating light like a torch, I walking beside her. Yoshimo and Keldorn followed us, and Minsc held up the rear, slinking along, just waiting for more vampires to leap out.

We lost track of the time in the midst of our search, but I would think we were down there for the better part of the morning. And yet, still no sign of a secret door. In the time, we had moved full circle, coming back to the bloodstained entrance, only to go back in again. And on our second pass…nothing. We entered a third time, straining our eyes and our senses extra hard. We were all starting to become slightly skeptical, coming close to wits end.

"A secret passage?" Sarevok broke the long silence with a snort, being the first who questioned our course of action. Predictably. "Bah, this is a waste of time. We wander aimlessly while there are more important things to be done. We should never have come here and sought another way into the castle."

"As opposed to what perhaps?" Yoshimo inquired lightly, "We had no other clues to follow, nor any means of entering the castle. I'll admit that our sources left something to be desired yes, but with nothing else, it was the best we had. And this way has not proven to be _that_ wasteful…"

"Oh no?" Sarevok challenged, before casting a hand back at me. "And what of sending Dietrich into a nest of vampires and having his life sucked away? You risk everything involving the prophecies by sending him to a fool's death, following the words of a drunkard! If not for his taint, he would have most likely been killed!"

"That's enough!" Jaheira shouted at him, her eyes growing as fiery as his, "Why must you always push things so far? Stepping upon a sensitive subject with the carelessness of an oafish giant…Can you not see that he is still haunted by that?"

"Dietrich has dealt with murder in the past, as well as coming face to face with the taint of Bhaal within several times before now. I suspect that this moping is nothing but a momentary passing. If he was truly is as weak and frail as you suggest, he would have crumpled under the stain long ago."

"Regardless of how fascinating this is," I broke in finally, my mood as sour as everyone else's, "It's not really helping us to find this hidden door…If there is one. Can we get back to that please?"

"What is it Boo? Something you smell?" Our trek halted, and we looked behind. Minsc had been completely oblivious to the heated arguments ahead of him, and he was crouching low to the ground, a difficult thing to do in plate armor, Boo resting in his hand. He had his ear tilted down to the rodent, listening intently. After taking in his "advisor's" counsel he stood, and began scanning the wall nearby. After a little scrutiny, he finally spoke to us.

"Boo has decided…the secret door we seek is here. In this wall. Now we must find the trigger that opens it!" We glanced at one another. None of us had the words to effectively respond to him. What _could_ we say? Tell him that his hamster was wrong? That he was a little unhinged in the head? He would never hear of it…Perhaps even literally.

"Aha," Minsc yelled out, pointing a somewhat wild finger towards a seemingly normal brick, merely protruding out a little ways, "Boo says that this is the one! Now we may continue with our quest!" I felt compelled to stop the madness, but Minsc wasn't one to listen. _When Boo commands_, he once had told me, _Minsc must follow_.

And so Minsc followed, yanking on the brick with both hands, tugging and pulling, grunting with the strain. I was about to tell him to stop, that he might loose the wall and cause a cave in or something, when he ceased his mighty pulling and opted to gently pushed on it instead.

There was a grinding of stone all around us, as a decent sized doorway groaned open in front of Minsc, leading into a dimly lit passageway. He gave a beaming smile, and scratched Boo behind the ears.

"Yes, once more Boo, your stern intelligence has revealed the way towards our righteous butt-kicking! Come then," he turned to us, waving an eager hand, "Boo says that we had best hurry, before the mad general sinks even deeper into the vicious muck of craziness! Onward!" And he dashed into the tunnel without a second thought.

We meanwhile, were all in somewhat shock. Minsc constantly talked about the vastly superior intelligence of his small companion, but…well, it was coming from _Minsc_ and his significantly damaged head, so we never said anything. And now, he of all people was the one to discover the secret passage that we all were thus far incapable of locating, at the supposed bidding of Boo. It was almost a little too weird for me.

I made a note right then, that until I was _certain_ Boo wasn't indeed a miniature giant space hamster, as Minsc so passionately claimed, I wasn't going to have any more…condescending thoughts towards him. Better safe than sorry.

We followed Minsc into the passage, which emerged into a cramped supply closet. There were stacks of potatoes, crates of wine, and other assorted junk. There was only one door out. I led the way, not even trying to be discrete.

What we found on the other side was a basement, and a large one at that. A basement that looked like it was a makeshift barracks. There were weapon racks lining the walls, containers full of arrows and bolts, several beds and sleeping rolls, and of course, what barrack would be complete without a mass of soldiers?

At least seven of them were sitting around a large round table, orcs and men, laughing, drinking, and playing cards. And then I walked in. They turned their bleary eyes my way, were quiet for a moment or so, before leaping up, yelling and shouting obscenities. They didn't even bother to ask any questions about our intentions.

They were all Calishite soldiers, and at their hollering, many more came pouring in through an adjacent door. Above their blaring voices, a jingling chime sounded, what I could only assume was an alarm, signaling the other soldiers throughout the castle.

But these guys were just regular mercenary types, charging us blindly, having no idea of the power we held. They fell easily to us as we stormed the room with no finesse. I wasn't surprised that I was holding back here, and tried not to kill my enemies. But when a foe gets knocked down, and keeps rising to fight again, sooner or later, you have to put them down for keeps. I tried to do so as gently as I could. Quickly, it was just the six of us again, surrounded by corpses.

"Once again my friend," Yoshimo told me with a grin, "Your quality of stealth is something to be worked on in the near future. How many times has it been when we are beset on all sides by our lack of slyness?"

"More than enough for me," I answered as I wiped a few stray beads of my enemies blood from my face.

"After that commotion," Keldorn surmised, "This Gromnir must surely be aware of our presence. Caution must be taken as we proceed." And so we snuck, trying our best to adopt Yoshimo's guise of silence.

We'll never know if it worked or not, for it seemed that we had cleared out the basement in its entirety, not encountering any more troops. Either we had killed them all, or the rest were higher up, waiting to ambush us in a position that was to their advantage. Which they were. Right up the stairs was the main hall of the castle.

And there were several more of Gromnir's men waiting for us, having heard our noisy arrival. They didn't give us a chance to explain, they didn't even give us that annoying overconfident speech about how they were easily going to kill us all…No, the moment they saw us coming, they started to attack. Two of their archers were keeping us pinned down by the stairs. Their firing rate was far too fast, so they must have been Hasted or something. Not only that, they had a formidable spellcaster among them too.

As all the spells and storm of arrows subsided, we made our charge. Sarevok and Minsc took off, moving for the armored warriors with me right behind, Keldorn went straight for the mage, and Yoshimo and Jaheira slipped around the sides, to go after the lightly armored arches hanging near the rear, once more fitting their bows. It was a short fight, once we went on the attack. We took minimal injury, and we were ready to proceed. There was another flight of stairs leading up to the towers of the castle, no doubt where Gromnir was holed up.

"We had best be cautious," Jaheira warned, "This Gromnir is a Bhaalspawn as well. And if he truly is mad, he might not listen to reason. He has been inside this castle to allow his delusions to fester and grow…It is uncertain as to what his mindset is."

"So he might be a loon?" I summarized. Jaheira gave me a disgruntled look at my words, but nodded.

"Alright, let's go talk to this general…"

We ascended the staircase.


	17. Good Fun

**Chapter 17:** Good Fun

We could hear shouting as we climbed the staircase. Despite the echoing caused by the expansive stairwell, I could tell it was Melissan's voice. I could hardly make out her words over her near hysterical sounding tone, but I managed to pick up the words _Yaga-Shura, stranger, Bhaalspawn_, and _Gromnir_. A fairly linear conversation towards our situation.

By the time we got there, Melissan was gone, and there were but a handful of people in the room. I scanned about from out vantage point in the shadows. I could see a throne, with a man on it, flanked by two robed men. Another three, soldiers by the looks, hanging near the walls. I had a hunch that the fellow on the throne was who we were there to see.

And though we were all trying to be quiet at this point, it was _that_ man that noticed us lingering by the stairwell. Maybe he could sense me, the presence within. As from where I was, I could make out a faint twitch from deep down in my soul…A reaction I had felt when I had seen Illasera. With our presence known, he began to grin, scratching his head, and gesturing a hand towards us.

"Aha," cried general with glee in his eyes, "the assassin is here! Hah ha! Good fun!"

"So," I asked, stepping out into the open, "You must be Gromnir Il-Khan." His eyes pivoted, following me as I entered, my group hovering close to my back. His gaze leapt about in erratic patterns, looking at someone behind me, then at me, then to one of the men standing on either side of him, then behind him into the wall, and finally back to me again. He seemed rather jittery, but hey…madness can do that to you. As I approached, I got my first clear look at my half-brother.

The man was squat, hairy, and very ugly. To put it mildly anyway. Clearly not human, what with the sloping forehead and jutting lower jaw; more of an orc himself, which would explain the orcs in the ranks of soldiers. Half-orc I'd wager. He wore heavy steel wrought armor, which looked far too fine a thing to be on his sweaty greasy body. His hair was unkempt, wild curls and tangles which spilled everywhere. Leaning against an armrest to his throne was a sizeable morning star, a heavy looking thing. His fingers were lingering near the handle, but he hadn't taken a grip on it yet. At my approach, he gave me a wild grin, showing off his unsightly teeth.

"And Gromnir knows you are Dietrich…Terror of the Sword Coast. Terror, oh yes. Terror. Heh ha…" I gave a sweep of my cloak, not taking my eyes off of him.

"Right, though that's just a title. Don't read too much into it. I've been asked to speak with you concerning your…absence and lack of leadership in securing this town."

"Hah hah ha…Gromnir knows why Dietrich has come…oh yes…Melissan has sent Dietrich in here…He comes to kill Gromnir…Kill all Bhaalspawn in city…Dietrich is like Yaga-Shura…Wants Gromnir's head, oh yes…"

"And where did you get an idea like that from? Melissan wanted me to try and talk some sense into you. To get out of this castle and try and help protect the city from the army outside before their get through the walls."

"Gromnir knows…knows what Bhaalspawn agenda is…Knows that Bhaalspawn are pitted against Bhaalspawn…Being destroyed. Gromnir came here because of Melissan. Trying to protect Bhaalspawn. Now Gromnir knows the truth. Melissan lied, tricking Gromnir, luring him into a deathtrap! Melissan lied to Dietrich too, tricked him into killing Gromnir."

This was about what I expected. Someone who was mad was difficult if not impossible to reason with. Gromnir was stuck in a world of delusions, paranoia, and probably fear. He was after all a Bhaalspawn, so his head was just as sought after by mine. And accusing Melissan in coming in to kill him, not to mention leading him into a deathtrap. Although…

"Look Gromnir," I reasoned slowly and carefully, "_I'm_ not here to kill you. In fact, I'm not here because of anyone, including Melissan. I'm here to try and stop the other Bhaalspawn that are attempting to kill the rest of us. I've come to Saradush, though not by choice. But since I am here, I'm going to kill Yaga-Shura. I'm not looking to fight you, and since you are also a Bhaalspawn, maybe you can tell me how to do that. That is, if you are willing to listen to me."

With this simple request, Gromnir tossed back his head, wild hair flying and began to chuckle on his throne, squirming about, looking to be in the grips of a violent throes the way he wriggled.

"HAH HA! _NO!_ Gromnir knows that clever Dietrich is trying to fool Gromnir. Make Gromnir think he's not so bad. That he is friend. Then, when Gromnir turns his back, Dietrich will betray Gromnir. But we see through this. Gromnir is not stupid. All Bhaalspawn here will die by Yaga-Shura. Except Dietrich. For Gromnir will kill Dietrich now before clever Dietrich can kill Gromnir!"

And with that, negotiations came to their conclusions. With a deep-throated roar Gromnir snatched up his mace, and came charging down the dais, his heavy weapon over his head, waving it in a threatening pattern. Not to mention that the spellcasters beside him began lifting their hands, ready to launch an attack. As if this wasn't enough of a sign as to what the outcome of this meeting would be, I could hear the sounds of approaching footsteps, more guards rushing up the stairs to his aid.

I glanced around, at the numerous opponents in the room. Then I charged. I had tried to talk reason, but Gromnir was obviously not hearing any of it. And since he had openly stated that he wanted me dead, well…what choice did I have?

Gromnir came lumbering down the step, almost trotting, clearly having as much flexibility as an oak tree, due to his armor and his orcish nature. I would take Gromnir myself and let everyone else handle his goon squad.

In a rush of colored armor, Keldorn made a charge, causing Gromnir to pause, and turn to face him. But Keldorn had other intensions, rushing to meet the spellcasters before their magic went off. Sarevok stepped up next to me, Soul Reaver clenched in his hands, and I could feel the murderous intent radiating off of him.

I held a hand out, even as I could hear battle behind me. Jaheira, Minsc, and Yoshimo were battling the numerous guards that had come up the stairs as well as the soldiers in the room.

"Help them," I ordered, without removing my eyes from Gromnir. "I'll deal with him myself." Sarevok did not answer, but obeyed my command. He pulled back, turned, and with a snarl went charging headlong into the melee. From behind Gromnir, there was a blast of light, as Keldorn got nailed with a blast of fire. Though when the smoke cleared, he was unharmed, his great sword glowing with a blue aura, shielding him.

I stared down Gromnir, and pulled out the Celestial Fury with a slow metallic ring, advancing up the dais to face him. "I don't want to have to kill you Gromnir. All this is doing is helping Yaga-Shura win."

The mad general only gave me a sickening smile in return, and came in low, swiping that heavy weapon at my midsection. I reached out to block but was caught a bit by surprise. He was way stronger than he looked, and he nearly forced my arm back enough to land a blow. I reminded myself right there that while he was gross to look at, and slower than mud, he was still a Bhaalspawn, and needed to be approached with caution.

Instead of trying to parry, I opted to evade, merely moving around his weapon as he swung it. I'd use his strength and overpowered moves to my advantage. A perfect strategy, as the two of us went dancing about the dais, me steadily retreating, Gromnir making wild almost barbaric swings.

He made another attack, trying to knock my legs out, but I nimbly leapt back, feeling the wind of the weapon's passing. Quick as can be, I hopped forward, and scored a blow of my own. But nothing lethal. I turned the Celestial Fury backwards, and as Gromnir was recovering, I slammed the hilt of my sword squarely on the point of his chin, knocking him down with a disgruntled snort. With him eating dirt momentarily, I hastily glanced around the room, checking on my friends.

I spotted Sarevok first, as he was clearly making the biggest spectacle of himself. He stood, one hand on the Soul Reaver which was currently imbedded in an unfortunate soldiers guts, protruding from his back, his shoddy chainmail being inconsequential to the fearsome blade. With his other hand, he was dangling another poor fellow by the throat, holding him aloft and clenching down on his neck, crushing his windpipe.

Minsc had abandoned the Liliacor, who I could hear chanting out the words, "Murder death kill! Murder death kill". He had opted to do things with his fists, pinning one warrior to the wall with one arm, and pounding the living daylights out of him with his other.

Jaheira was facing off with another female warrior, trading blows carefully and patiently, using sword and shield. Jaheira may have been our healer and her druidic nature spoke of neutrality, but anyone who thought she couldn't fight was dead wrong. Yoshimo was doing his usual act, which had him twirling his dual katana's about in a whirling ballad of steel, to confuse and confound an opponent. Sometimes, I truly believe the man has the antics of some of the most scalawag bards, having practiced fanfare to his fighting styles. Did I say Sarevok was making the biggest spectacle of himself?

Hah…Lastly, Keldorn had managed to drop one of the bothersome wizards, his mighty sword penetrating the stubborn magical defenses, and was currently hacking at the other one, occasionally using his sword as a shield to absorb incoming magic attacks.

I was well aware that in my observations, Gromnir had regained his feet, and was coming after me again. As he charged, I sidestepped, and made a laid-back slice to his armor as he past, cutting one of the numerous straps to hold it in place.

Now his armor was askew, and he had a nasty cut on his shoulder. He growled at me with grit teeth, and returned it with a smile. I knew I shouldn't have been taking things so lightly, but my cocky nature knows no limits. Besides, I wasn't going to kill him. There was no need. I didn't like him, but I didn't need to kill him. Much like Sarevok.

I casually stepped out from under his next attack, a tremendous overhead swing with the intension to knock my brains from my head, and to add insult to injury, I extended my boot to kick Gromnir in the rear as he went tumbling past, the force of his overzealous swing sending him down the steps of the dais. His mace cracked the fine tiles of the floor, he rising up with a glower aimed at me. At this point, my crew had already dispatched his remaining forces. It was just us and him.

"This is over Gromnir. Your forces are dead, and you are alone. You can't beat me one on one. Give up this farce already. Get it through your head that I'm not here to kill you, but if you don't stop this idiocy, then I'll have to." He rose, giving his greasy hair a toss, lifting his eyes up to glower at me and turned a curled lip towards his dead followers.

"Gromnir will not listen…Gromnir will not be deceived by Bhaalspawn. Gromnir will kill Bhaalspawn assassin! Good fun! Hah ha ha!"

He lunged towards me, his charge slow. I raised my sword, ready to trip his feet. As he came I caught a look into his eyes. I saw that wild look…I felt his power stir, his essence of Bhaal. I could feel it. I could feel mine. It…it…it was…My vision…flashed yellow for a brief moment…

_**Kill…**_

There was a shock, which coursed up my whole arm. This was accompanied by a grunt, and a cough. I felt something warm and viscous dribbling across my hand. As suddenly as it had flashed in front of my eyes, the golden light was gone. I blinked a few times, and my eyes lowered.

My arm was stretched out, my sword extended, the majority of the blade disappearing into the abdomen of the shiny suit of armor. Blood was welling around the wound, and more was dripping onto my hand. I lifted my gaze, and saw Gromnir right in front of me, not three feet from my face. Blood was trickling down his chin, leaking from his mouth. His eyes were wide in alarm, face contorted in pain, and he was wheezing, each breath pushing more blood down his bloated lips.

I stared into his eyes; our expressions must have been equally dumbfounded. I was so shocked…so stupefied that I didn't even recoil from the foul odor that was wafting off his disgusting form at close range. Gromnir's face twisted into a grotesque smile, grinning back at me with blood-stained teeth.

"Good fun…" he gurgled, before he slumped and began to slide of my sword, crashing to the ground in a clattering heap. More blood started to leak from his corpse, staining the floor.

"What…what…" It was all I could manage. I didn't know what had happened. One second I was waiting to trip Gromnir, and the next he was gutted by my sword. I couldn't remember stabbing him…_Did the buffoon trip and fall on my sword? Or did I do it?_

My friends gathered around me. Jaheira knelt down by the fallen Bhaalspawn, checking for a pulse or breathing. I could only stand there dumbfounded. I was betting that Keldorn was wearing a stern expression, his bushy eyebrows furrowed in thought, eyes narrowed towards me. I didn't look to see, as I don't think I could have met his gaze.

Jaheira looked around at me, shaking her head. Dead. I didn't say a word, and put up my sword. I sat down heavily on the steps to the dais, while Jaheira tended to everyone's injuries. Keldorn's armor was charred in many places; some of the many spells hurled at him had broken through the protective barrier of the Holy Avenger. Yoshimo had underestimated a female warrior, the woman nearly cutting one of his arms off. Luckily, he had only a decent gash on his shoulder, and his armor absorbed the rest. Minsc and Sarevok were unscathed.

After a few minutes of letting the reality sink in, I shrugged it off. I still wasn't sure what happened, but regardless, it didn't really matter. The result was the same. Gromnir was dead, and I wasn't. A scenario I was more than used to at this point.

As I was about to suggest that we move on, getting out of the throne room, my ears pricked up. I could feel a presence…something watching…I was about to alert my comrades, when a swirling of magical energy drew my attention. A voice frantically called out before the light had even faded.

"Please lay down your weapons! We must work together to…_NO!"_


	18. Overcoming Invulnerability

**Note: Sorry about the long wait everyone, but things have been rather nutty over on this end of things. If all goes well, everything will pan out nicely, and I'll be in tip-top shape before the moon rises. Sorry once again, and enjoy!**

**Chapter 18: **Overcoming Invulnerability

"I see I am too late to stop the bloodshed," Melissan was practically weeping with grief, "You've slain Gromnir, and several other Bhaalspawn as well…" I glanced among the corpses around us. I had thought that Gromnir was the only other Bhaalspawn. I suppose it was too late to find out who the others were. Not that it really mattered.

"You know," I told her curtly, feeling a bit hot around the collar, "you're making this sound like it's all _my_ fault. I tried talking reason to the madcap, but he wasn't listening. Not much else I could have done." She rose, wiping her face and straightening loose strand of hair, quickly composing herself. Her woe towards Gromnir's untimely end seemed to weigh her down, but after a moment she appeared to swallow it down, and turned to me.

"Yes I know. And I apologize. I knew the chances that Gromnir would listen to you were slim. He seemed to believe that you were an assassin after him. I was just so desperate to end this siege, and I hoped Gromnir might come to his senses…but…I was wrong. I'm sorry. And now that he is dead, I'm afraid that we are all doomed now. Gromnir's leadership could have held this town together, to repel the invaders but now we are lost. With the army outside, there is no way to escape from Saradush. Even our wizards are trapped, due to Yaga-Shura's imprisoning magic's; they can't even teleport the civilians to safely…"

"They may be trapped here, but I'm not." My friends of course knew of what I spoke. I hadn't yet returned to my pocket plane, but I knew I could at any time. And with that magical portal, I could use it to escape from the city, imprisoning magic's or no.

"Truly?" she pressed eagerly, her eyes growing wide with perhaps hope, "You can leave this city?" I wasn't given time to answer, as she seemed to muse to herself, "Yes of course. If you found a way into this city that is already sealed off, than I suppose you could find your way back out again. If that is so," she faced all of us, clasped both her hands, and bowed, "Than I beg of you…Please find a way to save Saradush."

I can't say that I wasn't expecting this. When Melissan had told of the whole situation, with Gromnir and this Yaga-Shura, I had a strong hunch that trying to ally ourselves with Gromnir was only the beginning. As if he had truly been mad, he would end up dead after our meeting, and the city would be even worse off. So naturally, I would then be asked to save the city. Fortunately, I didn't really mind. After all, I have quite a reputation for saving cities. Not to mention that my half-brother outside the walls was after me as much as any other Bhaalspawn. I'd have to confront him sooner or later.

"Well I'd like to, but what do you want me to do? Help evacuate everyone? Because I'm not sure I could get everyone out the same way as we can." She shook her head, her face long, clearly being rather tired and almost haggard.

"I wish things were that easy, but I'm afraid that merely moving everyone to a different place would not be enough. This slaughter will not cease just because we have run. We will hunted and pursued; chased down by Yaga-Shura and his allies, no matter where we go."

"Allies? You mean there are more of these crazed Bhaalspawn out there? How many? And where?" Melissan stepped over a pool of blood, and gazed out one of the windows of the throne room. It looked down at the smoking city, and the fields outside, dotted with soldiers and tents.

"At this point, it doesn't matter. First you must defeat Yaga-Shura. If you do not, then we are all doomed. Together they are too powerful to face, even for one as mighty as you. But separate…separate they could perhaps be handled. _You_ could stop them Dietrich, I'm sure of it."

"I see. Well, if nothing else, you're inspiring me with a lot of confidence. So, what must we do then?"

"In short, you must defeat the army which surrounds us."

"Absurd!" Jaheira interrupted, "You ask us to take on an entire force with but the six of us? No matter how strong Dietrich is, he is not capable of defeating an army! And I doubt we would receive any aid in this town or any other, as a result of this conflict. You give us an impossible task…" I laid a hand on her shoulder, my face calm. She glanced behind at me, looking at me hard. But she gave a nod and stepped back. I turned my gaze to Melissan.

"She _has_ a point. I'm a tough customer, but even I can't dismantle that whole army out there. I'd like to have some sort of plan before I charge in swords drawn; else I'm merely hasten my own death."

"This I know. But the army isn't important; it's immaterial, made up of mercenaries and hired thugs. If its leader was to be killed, they would surely disband. If you could reach Yaga-Shura and somehow defeat him, then the army will break up. They wouldn't dare challenge you after that."

"A wise plan," Yoshimo concurred. "When faced with a formidable force comprised of men-for-hire, their greatest weakness is they often have loyalties only as deep as their employer's purse. And when faced with death or overwhelming odds, they would abandon their positions without a second thought to save their own skin, even without their pay. The death of this Yaga-Shura could indeed be this town's way out."

"Of course," Melissan went on, "this isn't as easy as I make it sound. Yaga-Shura is one of the strongest Bhaalspawn, and he is a fire giant as well. A fierce opponent in any respect, but with the essence of Bhaal running through him, he is all the more dangerous. He will not be a simple opponent to kill."

"A giant? Uh…I'd hate to image how Bhaal pulled that one off..."

"And yet you wish Dietrich to kill him?" Jaheira broke in again. At her protests, I couldn't hold back a smile. At times, she acted as protectively as Gorion had. "He isn't likely to be undefended within so massive a camp, and there is no guarantee that the army _would_ dissipate if their leader is slain. The situation is far too risky to act recklessly." Melissan gave us a grim smile.

"I'm afraid it's worse than that even. As I have said, Yaga-Shura is one of the strongest Children of Bhaal, and like all of them, the power of his taint has granted him some unusual abilities. I am unsure what powers have been given to you Dietrich, but I can tell you some of what I know about Yaga-Shura's. From what we've seen during this siege, as well as what I have learned in my studies, Yaga-Shura's abilities make him all the more dangerous in combat. The most troubling is his immunity to harm. No matter what we do, no matter how much he is cut, shot, or burned, his wounds regenerate instantly. He heals faster than we can harm him."

"You make it sound like he's invincible."

"As much as I hate to say this, but that seems to be the case."

"Ha," Minsc dismissively shouted, "there is no need to worry! Minsc and Boo have fought some powerful foes before, yes sir! And we have learned that the best way to deal with the biggest ones is to hit even harder! Minsc shall hit the giant's foot, the giant will fall down, and Boo shall take his eyes. And we will save the town!"

"I wish such bravery could count for something here," Melissan told Minsc, shaking her head, "but no matter what force we put behind our attacks, they seem to do nothing at all. Even our strongest spells leave no permanent mark."

"I see," I scratched my head, not surprisingly finding this eventual clash less and less appealing. But then again, I've fought against so many enemies along the way, all of whom lay dead behind me. But none that I had killed could be deemed as invulnerable.

"Though I doubt he is wholly indestructible," I went on, "I myself can regenerate wounds, though not nearly as quickly as you are suggesting. And I don't believe that anything mortal can become invincible, except by divine intervention. Meaning either he can just heal so fast that it's appears to be invincibility, or there is some trick to how he is doing it. Any insight on that?"

"I can only offer this. I know Yaga-Shura was not born with this immunity. He learned it…somehow, as he grew up…To the east of here, lies the Forest of Mir. Somewhere within it is an ancient grove where he was raised. It is possible that he developed this power over time there. If you can search the forest, you may discover the secret to his power, and find a way to undo it."

"And then again," I countered, finding this suggestion a bit iffy; "there might not be anything useful there. I trust we're not putting all of our efforts on to what ifs? Meaning, that if there _isn't_ anything there that can help us, is there a backup plan?" Melissan thought on this.

"If there is nothing in the forest, than the only other place I can think of is the Marching Mountains. Yaga-Shura has established a temple there in his own honor, and has attracted numerous followers who border on fanatical, many of which are fire giants. They see Yaga-Shura as a god, as you can understand. However, many of them are with him right now, as part of his army. With that sizeable force outside this town, the temple would most likely be lightly defended and vulnerable to attack. And just maybe there is some secret to his invulnerability inside."

"This is all _possible_, but what happens if these possibilities don't pan out in our favor?"

"Then it means we are all doomed. This town, and even you Dietrich. Try as you may, you would be unable to fend off the combined might of Yaga-Shura and his allies. You must find a way to succeed, for all our sakes."

"That reminds me. You mentioned his allies before. What of these others?" I urged, still interested at who they were. "Other Bhaalspawn, part of this alliance? I would to like to know what I'm up against before I start interfering in their designs. If I take down Yaga-Shura, then I might provoke them into coming after me themselves. I'd think it'd be wise to know whose toes I'm stepping on before my head rolls."

"I'm sorry Dietrich, but I can't tell you."

"You _can't_ or _won't_?"

"You must believe me when I tell you that exchanging information for your cooperation isn't my first choice. But it is my duty above all else to protect the people of Saradush by any means. And also I have learned that dealing with the Children of Murder, sometimes certain things must be done…the end justifies the means."

"I've heard that before," I gave her a cold look, one designed to show that I dislike being used. "And how does the means of keeping me in the dark help the ends?"

"Until you have my complete trust, I cannot reveal what I know to you. If you try your utmost to save this city, and everyone inside, then I shall tell you all I know. But first, you _must_ help."

"Sounds to me like you're nearly blackmailing me into this…" She gave me a funny look, somber but yet, amused.

"As I said, the end justifies the means." I let her words hang in the air for a brief moment.

"You know," I changed the subject casually, still rather cross at being denied what I wanted to know, "Gromnir was indeed rather unstable in the head, yet he _did_ have a point with his accusations…Regarding _you_." She looked around at me, her expression calm, but I could see it. In her dark eyes, the barest hint of alarm.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, he accused you of bringing me here to kill him. I admit that my coming here to talk reason to him was my own choice, but I only did so at your urging. And look," I pointed to Gromnir's unsightly corpse. "He's dead alright. I can't help but wonder if that was somehow your intent all along…" This raised point made Melissan's eyes widen, as she stared at me with an expression of shock, and underneath that, anger.

"You suggest that I merely brought you here to kill Gromnir? Absurd! He was the best hope we had of escaping this siege with our lives! I asked you to talk to him in hopes of bringing him around!"

"That may be, but did it not ever cross you mind that if he was _so_ smitten by madness, as you had suggested, that at the very sight of me he might have gone into a wild frenzy just like he did? Resulting with either him or me being killed? Come on, I know you're not stupid, surely you must have known that."

"Of course I was aware of this. But what choice did I have? His insanity was affecting his soldiers outside, causing trouble. And I myself couldn't talk him out of this course of action. He seemed to believe that this was all my fault, and wouldn't hear of anything I said."

"Yes, and with valid reason. You after all, brought him along with the other Bhaalspawn to this city. And now this Yaga-Shura is right outside, just itching to get in. That doesn't look very good; your helping has resulted with the downfall of this place. I'm not surprised that Gromnir became suspicious of your motives. Quite frankly, so am I. This place _is_ a deathtrap, and you _did_ bring everyone here. And you never did explain how Yaga-Shura found out about the corralled Bhaalspawn. Where'd he hear about it?"

"I have no idea, one of his spies probably. What does it matter how? And are you telling me that you were taken in by words of delusion? You saw him yourself; he was clearly deranged, spouting off nonsense. Making wild accusations about anyone. Surely _you_ are smarter than that to be drawn in by his madness?" I gave her a grave stare.

"Madness is one thing Melissan, but too many coincidences is something else. For the moment, I'll let this pass, but you're not winning any points towards my trust by denying me critical information in regards to my enemies."

"That is fair enough. I have yet to fully trust you, and you do not trust me. I certainly hope that by searching for a way to defeat Yaga-Shura, and saving Saradush, confidence is established. Between us both."

"Very well," I bowed my head, but my eyes shown out from under my bangs, my expression not hostile, yet chilly. "But let me leave you with one warning. I _do not_ like being manipulated. By anyone."

"I will remember that. Now, if you will excuse me, I must return to the defense of the walls. I wish you the best Dietrich." And with another swirl of shimmering magic, she had teleported away.


	19. Faith

**Chapter 19:** Faith

With Melissan's departure, that left us alone in the throne room. At the muffled sounds of war outside, we felt compelled to exchange glances. Most everyone of my group had expressions of weariness and something that was far from enthusiasm. _Most_ everyone anyway…

"So," Yoshimo cleared the air with a slight cough and smile, "What is our next course of action? Should we remain here and scour the city for more clues or depart at once?" I stole a look out the nearby window. I could see the swelling army, so thick it looked like an ocean of living flesh beyond the walls. _Somewhere in that mass is Yaga-Shura. Invincible Yaga-Shura…Great._

"Well, unless someone has a convincing reason for staying, then I think its best that we get out of here. We're on a limited amount of time, and I believe we'd better use every bit of it wisely. Because quite frankly, I think we'll need every bit of it." No one had any objections.

After retrieving any useful gear among Gromnir's remains, as well as his dead followers scattered about the throne room, we all gathered together. I was a bit interested, truth be told, to see if I could indeed bypass Yaga-Shura's magic and escape. I had boasted that fact to Melissan confidently, but in truth I wasn't completely sure that it was true. Wouldn't that be cute, spouting off arrogant claims on making a getaway from the imprisoned city, only to fail to follow through? Yes, that would make the terrible and powerful Bhaalspawn look like a buffoon. Not good…

Cespenar had said that in order to return, all I had to do was concentrate really hard on my abyssal realm, and I'd be brought there. So, I began to mentally picture the pocket plane, and instantly there was a rushing of wind about us, and darkness descended. At once I felt that warm cold sensation. A warm heat, but with a slight chill in the dead calm air. The vexing climate of Hell.

As the lights returned, I saw we had made it, standing in the abyssal kingdom that was my domain. Still as uninviting and desolate as always. I must say, it _definitely_ boosted my confidence to know that my soul was so barren and empty. We hadn't taken a few steps when a voice rang out throughout the entire chamber.

"Great master has returned!" Cespenar came tearing out of what looked to be a solid stone wall, having an ethereal quality to him, before rushing up to me. "Yay! Master has come back again!" As he stopped right in front of me, he paused, looking me over, up and down, before giving a high giggle. "Ooo, master is _very_ dirty. And smelly. What you been doing? Bhaal stuff maybe?" I had on a tired grin, and let out a breath of a laugh.

"Hah, well I guess you might say that." Cespenar held his nose, and began to tug at my bloodstained cloak.

"Here, I make you less stinky! Cespenar can wash clothes for master! Has big tub in back with lots of water! Make them clean and sparkling fresh, oh yes!"

I certainly wasn't going to object to that offer. I wanted the smell of blood off of me, if only for a short while. I'd be back before long though. As I pulled my cloak off, my eyes looked around my plane again, and I saw that things actually _had_ changed. It seems that Cespenar had been quite busy in our absence, going about his duties of keeping things neat.

The pocket plane looked the same, but there were a few things that were definitely altered. The light around us seemed brighter, dispelling some of the original gloom, giving it a more comfortable glow. The warmth around us felt different somehow as well; the heat had previously been stifling somewhat, a bit uncomfortable, but now it felt almost like a cozy heat, from a campfire or an inn on a cool night.

In addition, there were several pieces of furniture scattered about that most certainly were not there before. Some chairs and a table, simple in design. I wonder where Cespenar managed to find them. Yoshimo was already taking advantage of the new accoutrements, sitting down, and leaning back in his typical unperturbed fashion. It seems having a butler has many advantages.

I felt a tugging at my leg. Cespenar was looking up at me with those inquisitive eyes.

"Anything else master need? You hungry? Cespenar is good cook, can make lots of food." I stole a look behind at my comrades, who were busy removing their armor and bloodstained clothes. They did not have the luxury of having an imp butler to clean their gear. Or did they?

"I'd like for you to tend to my friends equipment as well. I rely on all their help, and it won't do any of us any good if we're not completely ready."

"You want me look after everyone? Even big scary one?" He pointed a claw at Sarevok, who promptly curled his lip in response. That made me grin.

"Yes, even the big scary one." Everyone removed their armor and weapons, leaving them in a heap, save Keldorn. He never removed his sword, and hardly ever removed his armor, at least around us. Personal preference or the creed of a paladin, I don't know.

All the equipment was charred, stained and didn't smell very good. At the sight of Cespenar hovering in front of that mound, I felt a little twang of guilt at leaving such a colossal mess for the cheerful little fellow. But he didn't seem daunted in the least, humming a little tune as he turned the various pieces of gear over in his hands, studying their maintenance needs.

Yoshimo was still holding his studded leather, wiggling his fingers though the large slash in the shoulder that had nearly removed his arm. Cespenar noticed.

"Master says me's to take care of you. You want me to fix that?" Yoshimo glanced over at him, then at his armor.

"Well…yes, if you can," he sounded sort of surprised, "If you think you are able. I know such a tear would be most difficult for a skilled tanner to repair."

"Yes oh yes, Cespenar can do that. Can fix many things…Broken many things too…But me can fix anything me break. Armor or weapons. Clothes and boots. You just ask, and Cespenar can fix."

"You are certainly a talented little fellow," Yoshimo commented, then glanced at me, giving his head a light bow. "I am quite honored that you wish to share your personal butler with the rest of us. I'll have to relieve our enemies of extra treasure to compensate you for such generosity."

"That's alright…Unless you happen to find a nice sword I can use."

"Right now, treasure isn't what I need," Minsc boomed, "Boo and I haven't had anything to eat in quite a while, and that isn't good. Boo starts get funny ideas when he's in a bad mood, let me tell you. Can you see the gleam in his eyes? Not just from intelligence, no sir!"

"You want eat?" Cespenar pointed to a darkened alcove off of the primary room; "Me has many things stocked there in case great master got hungry or thirsty."

"Ah yes, food would do Minsc good! Boo was starting to wonder what might be edible around here! Show us the way little imp man! Plenty of meat for Minsc, and lots of fresh hard seeds for Boo!"

"Hmm," Yoshimo commented, rising from his seat, "Perhaps I too should investigate. There is no telling at what stores the diminutive caretaker of this place has hidden about. A stiff unwatered drink would be most welcome indeed."

"Perhaps it would be best to discern our next course of action," Keldorn said aloud, turning to me. "What is your plan? Do you wish to start out right away or shall we wait?"

I watched as both Yoshimo and Minsc follow after Cespenar, knowing that if there was indeed food and drink, they would no doubt generously partake. Trying to get them to do anything besides sleep afterward would be a task that the gods themselves would find difficult, never mind a diminutive mortal like myself.

"Before we go anywhere, I think I need a little time to sort myself out. Besides, I'm no slaver-driver; I know everyone needs a rest now and then. You guys can relax for a while. The upcoming struggle certainly sounds like a harsh endeavor, and we'll need to be ready. Just take it easy for now."

"A time of peace would be welcome," Jaheira concurred, "But in a place such as this, so grim and unnatural a setting, I do not think I would be able to relax. No trees or grass, no water…Nature herself cannot find a place here." As she looked around my pocket plane, she shuddered.

"My sentiments exactly," I agreed, putting an arm around her shoulders, "And I'm not even a druid. I just wish this place were more…well…cozy. Like back at Candlekeep."

"Does the master wish to change the plane?" Cespenar was poking his head out from behind my leg, having suddenly appeared from out of thin air, looking up at me with those wide eyes.

"Uh…yeah, if I could make it…well, nicer to look at. This place creeps me out, and it's a reflection of my own soul. It's not very comforting."

"Master can change it if he wants. This place is his home. His home will look like he wants, if he wants. Just think _really_ hard, and it will change. Cespenar wouldn't mind scenery change either…Something happier, oh yes!" Once again I wasn't surprised. There are things about this place that I still didn't know. It would take some time, I suppose, to figure it out completely. But if I had the power to change this chilling place into…well, anything but what it was, I'd do it.

"Right…think hard on it…" I quickly looked round to my friends. "Why don't you all get something to eat too? Then take a nap or at least rest a little. No sense in being strung out and tired. And it's not like we can afford to be." They nodded, and followed after Cespenar again. Sarevok however, hadn't moved, standing in place, his eyes watching them leave before turning back to me.

"You might as well go with them," I encouraged, "Starving yourself isn't really a good way to…you know…stay alive. Just thought you'd like to know just in case…you forgot."

"Despite your thoughtful concerns, I do not need food. Moreover, you and I both know that I am still viewed with disgust by your companions, and my company would be unwelcome."

"I wouldn't say disgust. More like untrustworthiness and distaste. But you have to start somewhere. Besides, I think it's not as bad as that. So long as you don't give any of your slandering comments towards their disposition, and you don't try and kill them, I'm sure they'll learn to love you."

"Your sense of humor is becoming as warped as you are…" But he did turn and left, leaving me by myself. Like I had wanted.

I didn't want them around while I was attempting to change the world around me, in case the altering of my plane had any negative side effects on those present at the time. I knew that my mind controlled this place, but I also knew that my mind was far from my own. Especially recently.

I stood in the center of the primary chamber, amidst the emptiness of my plane, staring out at the unsightly landscape surrounding me on all sides, wondering where to begin.

"Before you begin your task," a sudden voice from behind spoke. I practically jumped through the roof, if there actually was one, and turned on my heels. Standing close behind me, I saw Keldorn's stern face. How he'd snuck up on my in that clanking armor, I couldn't even begin to suspect. His expression was straight and serious as he leveled his eyes at me.

"I'd like to speak with you alone for a moment." At this, I felt like a small boy who was just caught skipping his studies, and I felt almost obligated to shrink from Keldorn's gaze. Instead I nodded, and without a word he turned and strode into the adjacent room. I followed.

We faced each other, looking eye to eye. His expression was still, making it hard to tell if he was upset, tired, or bored. In many ways, he was as hard to read as my brother. Finally, he shifted and cleared his throat.

"First," he began, "I would like you to know that I am relieved at the progress I have seen you make over the months. It does me good to see you fighting off the darkness that constantly follows you. You strive hard to stay on the path of honor and integrity. However, I know it is not easy, what with the recent conflicts, both in the world around us and more importantly, yourself."

"These are dangerous times, filled with peril, temptation and deception. In times of such despair, many turn to the church and the gods for guidance. Have you considered adopting a faith to follow?" I gave him a smirk, knowing _this_ lecture all too well. Keldorn saw my expression, and chuckled.

"I know, I have often spoken to you on this subject, but it is merely out of concern that I do so once again. Having a faith to guide you is often a comfort of men; to have someone to turn to in times of personal turmoil, someone who can guide their lost soul. And I believe my friend, that you are somewhat lost yourself."

He didn't know the half of it. With these blackouts, where I suddenly lose my waking mind, I come to surrounded by bodies and blood. I know I as a person am not nearly so barbaric and brutal to do such things, even to my enemies. But I know a little thing that is constantly creeping around inside of me that is. And what makes it even more terrifying, I don't know why. Not to mention that I doubt I could control it. What if I was to suddenly be swallowed up by these raw emotions of murder while my friends or innocent people were around…?

"I have considered it many times," I told my paladin friend, "Having a belief to serve would be like having a…a mentor almost, someone whom I can seek advice and answers from. But I am a Bhaalspawn; my very being is all but thanks to the meddling of the gods. I think they've had enough of a say in influencing my life. I'll not have them leading me by the collar into what _they_ deem as fit for my destiny. Besides, the only god I seem to have any common ground with is Bhaal. And I don't feel like getting any closer to him than I already am."

"Bhaal would be fitting only if you choose to embrace your bloody heritage. But there are other paths to follow, other faiths that would offer you solace, and find peace for your wavering soul."

"You mean like redemption?" I asked, "Or salvation?"

"If you feel that redemption is required, than perhaps." I loosed a hollow sigh, turning my gaze upward, staring off into the unsettling green expanse over my head. I could almost feel my taint and my mountain of troubles sneering down at me from on high, hidden among the passing foggish cloud.

"Recently, I feel like I need to redeem myself daily, just for even being alive. It's sickening to realize that all of this that's transpiring is tied to me, and I to it. And it makes me think back to when I start treading the path of the wanderer. Murder got me started down this road, and all I've really done since then is kill. Almost as though I cannot escape fate…"

As I spoke, my eyes now seemed to drift downward towards the cracked stone ground, having openly spoken of a truth that had haunted me for a good while. Now it made me feel worse. And I thought it was a good thing to talk about ones problems…I heard him clear his throat.

"I understand. Despite your want to do good and help those in peril, it often times ends up with you fighting and killing. Following the doctrine dictated to you by your heritage. It is a difficult course that you walk upon."

"I tread a path of blood not by choice Keldorn. Though it might not seem very fitting of me, but I'd rather be lounging peacefully on the bank of some river, spending my time fishing and napping."

"So do you believe that all that you have come this far in searching for is a waste?"

"No," I shook my head vigorously. "Not at all. Adventuring is a noble cause, worth fighting and dying for. It merely makes me feel guiltier, knowing as I killed my enemies that I was born to be a murderer, that it was a fate I could not escape. Though even now as despite the evil inside of me, I've striven to do good."

"And you have done so," Keldorn reassured me, gripping my shoulders, looking me squarely in the eyes, "And you shall do much much more before your time is finished, that I am sure. So how shall you proceed from here?" I knew he was once more asking about perhaps adopting a faith. I knew him well.

"For now," I answered, "I will do all that I can to bring this turmoil to an end. And I'll follow my own advice, and make my own decisions. That's assuming that they are still mine to make." My response was probably what he was expecting; though his expression still did not exactly shimmer with glee.

"I understand. I only hope that your own inner guidance shall lead you through this troubling state of affairs. Always remember however, that a mans judgment isn't a perfect thing."

"I know…But I somehow get the feeling that the gods aren't perfect themselves, contrary I'm sure, to what they _want_ us to believe…"

"You may be right about that. Though I would like you to just promise me one thing Dietrich." I was waiting for some request for me to make a vow, to pledge my service to the good. He had asked such things of me before.

"Promise me you'll keep the spot next to you open when you've retired and are partaking of fishing and napping." I admit that I was caught unaware by his request, his words passing me by. But as I saw his grin, I couldn't help but laugh. A good long one too, the kind where you double over and just belt it out. I can't begin to say how much better I felt afterwards. I threw an arm around his shoulder, returning the grin.

"You got a deal."


	20. Shaping Ones Soul

**Chapter 20:** Shaping Ones Soul

Cespenar was right. All I had to do was focus and concentrate my thoughts and wishes, and the world around me would alter.

Ever since I had left Candlekeep, and began to explore the world, I have gone through numerous strange and bizarre things, many of which didn't belong in the realm of mortals. But seeing the very world around me begin to alter with my thoughts, to actually happen around me on my command was a bit unsettling. Not that it wasn't a difficult ability to use. It was just as Cespenar said.

When an image of what I wanted popped into my head, I merely had to centralize my thoughts, and the walls around me would begin to grow hazy, their colors and textures beginning to blur together into a mushy and amorphous splotch. Objects and ornaments ranging from furniture to fashionable knickknacks would start to form, as if they were growing out of the floors themselves, sprouting to endow my new dwellings to my hearts content. Regardless of how amazing it truly was, it was still a little creepy to behold.

I'll admit that I was tempted by many rising visions of possible elaborate architectural designs in my head, of luxurious abodes to match my status in the world: famous. Even if the fame was due to my menacing nature. To have my pocket plane remodeled like an enormous lavish palace, with colored tapestries, expensive furniture imported from Waterdeep…the sort of dwelling that would warrant having countless servants and beautiful exotic female entertainers.

I won't deny that the mortal side of me found this alluring, and not merely as joke to my companions. Though I doubt some of them would have been pleased to see me abusing my need for earthly niceties.

Even so, it was my own need for simplicity that settled my mind. I had been present in extravagant and profligate homes before; the Duke's palace of Baldur's Gate, the numerous noble estates of Athkatla, and the elven citadel of Suldanessellar. Yet I had always felt it was a bit too much.

I had grown up in Candlekeep, a library fortress occupied by scholarly monks, and my room was as basic as one could imagine. A small bed, a modest desk and bookcase, and an average door and window. The only furnishings I had was a threadbare Amish rug that Gorion had told me came from his younger days.

I wasn't interested in towering mountains of gold furniture, elaborate and expensive ornaments to decorate every square inch of my home. I was a sucker for simple, and that's exactly what I wanted here. After all, besides Candlekeep, this pocket plane in Hell was the closest thing I had ever had to a home.

Therefore I wished to model the majority of my dwelling after the surroundings of my childhood. Quaint wooden buildings, with the modest fireplaces, basic furniture, and the sparsest of unnecessary décor. It was my desire, and I was hoping that the rest of my comrades would also find its simplicity acceptable. If not, I suppose I could act as chief architect of my home, and redesign their living arrangements to suit their purposes.

By the time everyone returned from their meals, I had been adding the finishing touches to my new residence, feeling like a housekeeper in making sure everything was spic and span. As they entered, through the newly added wooden door I might add, their faces were stunned and full of amazement. All save Keldorn and Sarevok. Keldorn had a serious expression, but as he gazed about I could see a smile in his eyes. One just needed to know how to read the man. My brother on the other hand, may as well have been a golem. He didn't so much as bat an eye.

"What do you all think?" I asked, lifting my hands about, "Do you like what I've done to the place?" For indeed, things were awfully different now.

No longer were there naught but frigid stone walls, like the interior of a dim grotto. Now it looked like a high quality tavern, with fine timber walls and floors, some colorful decorations to make it a smidgen more festive, rustic tables and chairs, and doors.

I'll proudly say that I put forth a good amount of effort into envisioning this place, even the smallest of details, like a thin layer of dust on the rafters overhead, and even the barest tuff of cobwebs in the corners. I was also rather fond of the large central fireplace that threw out a comforting heat throughout the new room, somewhat quelling the persistent chill that invaded ones bones.

I didn't have to be able to read minds to see that my friends were impressed.

"What…happened?" Jaheira asked, sounding mystified, "Everything has changed!" I lifted my hands, displaying the new surroundings.

"Well, I didn't think the previous décor was to my taste so I changed it. Pretty amazing right?" I'm somewhat disgusted to admit it, but I was enjoying the attention at my new-found powers.

"Yes, it is _truly_ amazing," Minsc concurred, looking all over the place, turning around and around, "Even Boo, with his mighty hamster powers, is in _awe_ at such a display! To think our good friend could do such things, it is enough to make Minsc wonder what other astounding things he can do!"

"A pleasing sight this is," Yoshimo was wandering about the room, running his hands across the wooden walls, "And much more comforting setting than a chilly cave with those unappealing statues. I found them a tad unsettling."

"They made Boo feel uneasy," Minsc agreed, "He did not like the way they were looking at him, made his fur all prickly. Boo is most pleased that Dertick has made them leave." Even Keldorn voiced his opinion.

"I must admit even I find this a welcoming change, in both the environment as well as yourself, to see you do not misuse a power and to actively control you own self to alter your very soul . And beyond that…yes, it is doing much to ease anxiety around us."

"And you haven't even seen the best part yet," I told them with a mischievous smile, "This way…"

As not only had I expanded the primary room, I had also constructed several smaller hallways which led to other new rooms that hadn't been there previously. For some reason, the other set of rooms, the ones that were still shielded by magic to prevent entry couldn't be moved or altered. They still retained their unsettling mist-like shroud and even the changes made close to their proximity seemed less detailed and faded.

I led everyone to these new additions, save Sarevok who had no interest in going on my tour, showing my companions a special series of rooms. Simple and unadorned perhaps, but each person found a separate bedroom for them, each with their own little additions to make them feel at home. Minsc's room had a map of Rashaman on the wall, as best as I could remember it anyway, and a small little nook with minute beddings for Boo, which Minsc thanked me for countless times. And supposedly, so did Boo…

Yoshimo's room had many vacant shelves and tables, places I told him, to keep his treasure after he relieved our enemies of it. I knew how much he liked to display his "earnings". He gave a sheepish nod.

"You know me all to well it seems. Perhaps I should be less of an open book, yes?" Keldorn's quarters were simple; it was the most plain out of all of them, with a small spot in the corner that I had made into a miniature sanctuary, in case he felt the need to say a prayer. In this abyssal realm it may not have the same effect as on the prime, but it's the thought that counts.

Jaheira's chambers were unremarkable I am loath to admit, nothing particularly unusual or unique about it save a few simple paintings of woodlands and natural settings. As she looked them over, she glanced back at me. I shrugged.

"I know its nothing special but…well, what can I say, you're a hard woman to shop for." She laughed, reaching her arms around me, and pulling herself up to kiss me on the cheek.

"It is perfect," she told me, "I would not change a thing."

"Good to know. Pleasant dreams." Everyone was worn from our outing in Saradush, and it would be nice to sleep in a bed without worrying about burning catapult stones crashing the roof in. I eventually got Sarevok to go to his room, showing that I had put in a few bookshelves, and filled it with as much reading material as I could recall. He perused the selection, pulling a few bindings out to read them.

"Just in case you get bored in the night," I explained. He did not answer, and after scrutinizing for a moment longer, he pulled a book out, cracked it open and started to read. He stayed that way for two whole minutes before I realized that he intended to read standing up and on the spot. There was a perfectly good reading chair in the corner, but I guess he didn't feel compelled to use it. So I just eased myself out the door, trying to be discreet.

With everyone put to bed, I had something else I wanted to take care of. It was tricky, and it took me a good part of the night to accomplish it, but it made me have a swell of pride. Though I only got the bare minimum of sleep that evening.

Everyone emerged from their rooms after several good hours of rest, looking refreshed and alert, glad indeed that there was a nice private place to bed down for the evenings. Or perhaps mornings, depending on our often times eccentric schedule. And we could always come back here should we need refuge from the outside world.

Cespenar was already throwing together a breakfast at the new tables I had installed. The little guy was efficient and cheerfully pleasant about his work, but I wasn't quite ready to eat whatever put out as food. It wouldn't have surprised me if we both had different definitions as to what food really is.

With little prompting on my part, everyone started to prepare for the day, gathering their things. I saw I had a few moments before we headed out, so I took it.

Everyone's attention was focused elsewhere, tending to their now clean gear, strapping armor in place and buckling sword belts for the day's adventure; I gingerly slid up next to Jaheira, keeping my eyes forward.

"I have something special to show you," I spoke quietly, out of the corner of my mouth. I saw her eyes pivot my way for a brief second, and she gave a simple nod. I reached took her hand, and the two of us casually began stepping back, making a circumspect exit from the others. I made my way across the primary chamber, Jaheira in tow, and I came to the room where I had faced my first challenge in my pocket plane. The chamber of retribution. Only it had changed since I had passed that trial, thanks to my world altering powers.

As we stepped beyond the stone archway, I felt Jaheira's hand tighten around mine and I heard her draw in her breath, as I knew she must have been drinking in what lay around her. The previous stone room was no more. In its place was a vibrant and lush grove of trees, flowers, bushes and every other sort of foliage that I could imagine. There was a small brook running across the room, creating the delightful drumming of water splashing against stones, its soothing tone filling the room with a sense of realism.

I glanced over at her. Her mouth was slightly open as she was clearly…well, perhaps even flabbergasted, a reaction from her one must strive to great lengths to achieve, let me tell you. But the corners of her full lips were turned up into a dazzling smile, growing larger as she looked to and fro. I leaned in, bringing my mouth right next to her delicate half-elven ears.

"Go ahead," I breathed softly, "Take a look around…" Without even answering, she somewhat stumbled forward, almost like a sleepwalker, gazing upward to the tops of the tallest trees.

As she walked, she let her hands hang out, rubbing her palms across the bark of a fir tree, caressing the rough moist texture of the leaves, she even kneeled in the soft soil, taking a small handful, and feeling the consistency as it slipped through her fingers. At the waters edge, she gingerly stepped one foot in, letting the cool water cascade over her skin. She stood for many moments, and I slowly ventured in after her, advancing to small creek, waiting for her to speak.

"When…when did you do this?" she managed to ask, her voice still lost in murmurs.

"Last night, while everyone was asleep. What do you think?" Jaheira emerged from the water, standing amongst the tall trees, inhaling the air. She seemed at peace, her expression was calm and relaxed as she gazed among the foliage and clear streams.

"It's lovely…" and she trailed off.

"But…" I picked up for her, knowing she wouldn't have the heart to say that fateful word herself. Because I knew her well, and I _knew_ she was going to say it.

"But…it's…it has a lingering trace of what it once was, and it makes it feel somewhat…artificial. Fake. As if I know deep down that it is not truly real." I suppose I had already known that. When I had been crafting it in the night, I had felt that, even when constructing the other rooms, that a small amount of the abyssal realm had remained, almost tainting it. And if I could feel it, then Jaheira, a druid, was certainly not going to miss it.

"You did not have to do this," she tried to tell me, "You spent your evening on this, instead of resting. And it must have taken a lot of effort."

"Oh not really. You know how I created it?" She looked over at me, eyebrow raised. A gave casual nod, keeping my visage inexpressive. "By thinking about you." At this, her face gained a hint of red, and she cocked her head at me with a small smile.

"Such flattery," she commented, "I suppose you wish for me to swoon and fall into your arms at your thoughts of romance?" I returned the grin.

"I'm always up for that." She laughed at my playful antics; put a hand to her brow before loosing her balance in a teasing faint, and falling into my awaiting arms. I stared down into her lovely violet eyes, finding them more enrapturing than any precious gem I had ever beheld. She looked back, deep into me, and we stayed silent for a long while. Then…

"You might want to sit down," I told her softly, "Otherwise you might faint on me again." She nodded, trying to keep a straight face, and I gently lowered her and myself so we were sitting together in the grass. It was peaceful, with the false wind running through our hair. Jaheira leaned against my side, my arm around her shoulders, and we became lost in the tranquility.

"Brother…" the deep echo resonated around us, and both Jaheira and I flinched. We looked behind, to see Sarevok standing just on the threshold of the foliage. Almost as if he was unable to enter. We quickly separated, rising to our feet quickly, brushing loose dirt and stray leaves from our clothes. He must have noticed my dark stare, not to mention an equally unfavorable glare from Jaheira, as he seemed somewhat amused by our reactions, cocking his head. "I did not mean to interrupt…"

"Too late," I grumbled. "What is it?"

"I was merely going to suggest that if you have finished fashioning your pocket plane with worldly comforts as well as fraternizing, than perhaps we should be on our way. Destiny waits for no man. The longer you linger here, the better chance that our quest is already doomed."

Dark, uninspiring, and blunt, my brother's patented speech to ruin my good moods. And what made it worse was that he was right, damn him. Curse that superior intellect of his! I had tried to believe myself to be clever, but Sarevok proved smarter than I more than once. I guess that's what I get for skipping out of lessons back at Candlekeep.

"I guess we had to go," I told her. She nodded without a word, and the two of us left the tropical grove behind, hand in hand. As we were walking, I suddenly felt her hands slither around my neck, pulling my head down, and she pressed her lips against mine in an unexpected but certainly not unwelcoming kiss.

"I love it," she whispered as she pulled back, "Thank you…" Sarevok merely waited for us, his face completely unreadable, though I think I saw him lift an eyebrow.

"Just so you know," I said to him as I past, "in the future, you might want to work on your timing."


	21. Foul Odors

**Chapter 21:** Foul Odors

By what we had deemed, as the telling of time in my little slice of Hell was perplexing at best, it was still early morning. We had all eaten and taken a short rest, and were ready to proceed onward with our newest quest. To find some manner of weak spot in Yaga-Shura's invincibility, and to exploit it. Naturally, resulting with us killing him. Hopefully…

Once we had suited up and checked all our supplies, we were ready to move out. We stepped forward, towards the doorway leading back to the outside world. I began to concentrate, filling my mind with desires to be placed outside of Saradush, away from Yaga-Shura's army, and on the path to the eastern forest. As soon as I thought this, the lights around us went out, and we felt that peculiar sensation of being swept along by the wind, flowing through the blackness. And in a glare of bright luminosity, we were once more in the world we all knew so very well, and I could easily tell that the powers of my pocket plane had not failed me once again.

We were in the woods, no sounds or smells of war and death around us. Rather, we were surrounded by the sounds of nature; birds tweeting, the sound of rustling wind, the screams of the innocent? It took me a minute to realize that wasn't a typical forest noise, and I at once stiffened, and crouched.

Without even an order or command, everyone drew their weapons, and fell in behind me. Except Sarevok, who instead stood at his near monolithic full size, standing between me and the sound. Like having my own personal moving fortress wall. I nudged around him, and we all started to creep.

We didn't need to go far, beyond a small cluster of trees there was a patch of destroyed brush, occupied by at least two dozen armored men. All around them was signs of a slaughter, dead bodies strew about, blood drying on the ground, flies already settling on the corpses. In addition, there were many wooden carts around, a caravan, the packages and bundles having been sliced into, the wagons turned into kindling. A group of traveling merchants no doubt, who entered the wrong neck of the woods.

I was contemplating whether or not to engage them, a senseless battle with bandits when our time was pressed, but a shrill scream got me moving without thinking. There was still a merchant left alive, a portly fellow being taunted with blades, the band of thugs and soldiers grunting laughter at his shaking.

The moment I stepped into the open, one of the scouts caught sight of me, and whistled, prompting the whole lot of them to turn from their fun and face me.

"I think you'd best be off," I told them levelly, "and leave this fellow alone. You've caused enough damage for today."

One of the goons had this evil sort of expression, the kind that means he's about to make some overconfident nasty reply, but before he ever uttered a thing, he squinted at me, and at once his eyes widened.

"You're 'im ain't cha?" I didn't have an answer to this question, as "'im" is rather vague, but I did shrug. Perhaps I was. Another soldier was holding a rolled up parchment scroll, opening it up and he went from looking at it, to me, and back to it.

"He is!" he shouted, tossing the scroll aside and drawing his steel. "It's them!" he hollered to the score of men behind him, "The one Yaga-Shura wanted! The Bhaalspawn! Kill him!"

Things got messy after that. I drew my swords, and off my brother went, with that wild yell of his, stampeding towards the whole group, causing Yaga-Shura's mercenaries to waver. I didn't blame them; I'd faced down my towering bloodthirsty brother charging headlong at me more than once. It's not a very pleasant experience. We followed right on his heels, as he tore into them, hacking limbs and spearing guts as he strode. We split out, taking a few each. After all, these were the basic types of mercenaries; they looked tough, they acted tough, and they could swing a sword. But they weren't high class; they had no idea how to fight a group of dedicated sword fighters. Let alone a Bhaalspawn.

It was no surprise that most went after me; I was after all their target. But it mattered not. My two swords were out, and as another blade was descending, I parried and responded with a reflexive attack of my own. Each axe blade, each spear point, each arrow was turned away and repelled. While I'm focused on fighting, it takes much to break past my defenses. As more than half their number fell, the rest started to scatter, screaming and shouting curses. Despite my feeling bad for them, I made sure none escaped. Not that I wanted to butcher them, but I didn't want them to report back to Yaga-Shura as to where I was. We were marching to perhaps assault his stronghold; I didn't need to be attacked from both the front and the back. None escaped.

As we regrouped, I saw the merchant peeking his head out from behind a barrel, looking around with wide eyes, surveying the carnage. When he was sure that the six of us were the only ones left, he came trotting out, wiping his balding head clear of perspiration and a few trace droplets of blood.

"Oh dear me dear me," he huffed, looking mighty glad that he was safe, "I can't thank you enough kind sir, for your timely rescue. Those foul brutes came from nowhere I tell you, swooping in demanding gold and all of our supplies. Poor Lyle, he was always too brash and headstrong, refused, and they just started slaughtering us! Oh, it was too much to bear, to think it could have been me too!" As he calmed down, he began to smile, realizing he was safe, and looked me up and down. "To think that a Bhaalspawn of all people would be the one to save me. Imagine that!"

I lifted an eyebrow, this comment putting me on alert. "You know what I am then?"

"Oh certainly sir," he responded, his cheerful demeanor not flinching in the slightest, "But I try to make a habit of not being a judgmental salesman. It hurts business. Why, not too long ago I gave a drow a great deal on a set of swords I had acquired. Had I turned him away for simply being drow, I'd be a lot poorer, I can tell you that."

"For you display of tolerance sir," Jaheira told him, "You give me hope that other humans may one day be as such."

"My thanks, dear lady. But I will tell you this; it is _certainly_ hard sometimes to remain civil in this day and age, what with the wars being waged by those Children of Bhaal. They have their reasons I'm sure, but from what I've been hearing, its one great big senseless bloodbath. I'm pleased that your friend and my rescuer here is not quite so…ferocious."

"Have you heard anything about the Bhaalspawn?" Jaheira asked politely, hoping for a lead or tip, "Who they are or where their camps might be?" The round man didn't give it much thought before nodding vigorously.

"Oh yes, I've many rumors regarding them as a whole. And I passed numerous ruffians on the road, saying Bhaalspawn this and Bhaalspawn that. Personally, I find the subject somewhat depressing, but then again, that's just me. It seems everyone nowadays is finding it awfully fascinating. But I know little more than you've no doubt heard I'm afraid. I hear about them as a group, rather than individuals. _They_ all have armies; _they_ are ravaging the lands, and things of that nature. Other than that, I've heard nothing important."

"Not surprising," I murmured, and then I turned to the chubby trader, "Well, I'm just glad to help. But I think you'd better find your way out of this wood quickly. Those men were from Yaga-Shura's army, and no doubt more will be around before long." That put him on edge in a hurry, and he began glancing over his shoulder, perhaps expecting more villains to come leaping at him from the bushes.

"Well I certainly don't know any _Yaga-Shura_, but then I suppose I really wouldn't want to either. And again, I must thank you for saving my life good sir. If you're every passing this way again, and need some weapons, I'll give you the best prices this side of the Sword Coast, I promise you that." We left him there, putting his scattered wares back in order.

"Seems you and your kin are known far and wide," Yoshimo pointed out, "It is a pity that you cannot readily bask in the limelight of fame. Perhaps when you defeat your wayward siblings, you may be dubbed a hero of the land yes?"

"Getting ahead of yourself aren't you Yoshimo?" I asked, smiling though the situation was rather bleak at the moment, "I think we need to find a way to hurt Yaga-Shura before we end up the ones being defeated."

"I have a good way," Minsc called from behind us, "I will stab him in the foot, then the face, and Boo will take care of the rest."

"I think it will take more than your barbarism and your hamster to deal with this particular foe," Jaheira levelly informed him, "Divine children are often more than even powerful warriors can handle, let alone rodents. He must be approached with caution and an understanding of his strengths."

"He is of no consequence," Sarevok rumbled, "Dietrich will crush him as he has others, and we shall move on to the next Bhaalspawn."

"Must you be so callous about everything?" Jaheira gave him an annoyed stare, "Can you show no compassion to any around you, enemy or ally? Or are you as heartless now as you were before?"

"Mercy to an enemy is both foolish and dangerous. I am certain Dietrich already knows this. And allies can be a danger when forced to worry about their safety." Jaheira didn't answer verbally, but stung him as best she could with her narrowed eyes all the same. In the midst of this banter everyone continued on, but I had slowed my pace, falling behind, and then I paused altogether. Something wasn't right…

"No wait!" I called out. Everyone stopped, glancing back. I had my head up, and I was sampling the wind. "Keep your eyes open," I warned, "I'd be willing to stake my left foot there's a giant or two lurking about here." Everyone froze, and began scanning the nearby trees, going on alert.

"Giant?" Jaheira asked me, "What sort?" I sniffed again.

"Fire." My action prompted everyone else to follow suit, and take a whiff of the air. But everyone seemed to grow puzzled.

"That is strange," Minsc said aloud, "But even my ranger nose isn't picking anything up…What about you Boo? Is your hamster senses detecting smelly giants close by?" If Boo had smelled something, he must not have felt like sharing it with us, for he said nothing.

"I'm afraid I must agree with Minsc my friend," Yoshimo admitted, "I do not smell anything unusual? Could it be you merely have fire giants on the brain perhaps? One certainly wouldn't blame you for that."

"I _do_ have them on my mind, that's true," I agreed, "but those men were part of Yaga-Shura's army. And he's supposed to have some fire giants in his ranks too. No, they're around…I can smell them…"

"How?" This seemed like a rather silly question.

"How do you think? I...I can just _smell_ them; I recognize the same stench while we were in Saradush. And it's strong, a lot stronger than I'm really comfortable with too."

They all tried again, testing he air around us, but their bemused faces only became even more baffled.

"How can you not smell _that_?" I pressed, "They're stinking the whole forest out. It's…rank." Everyone exchanged looks, and I sighed. "I guess that it's not just my imagination then…" I muttered. Keldorn picked up on it.

"What do you mean? What's not?"

"Well, rather recently I've been able to…well, smell things more clearly. For example, I could tell you, and I'm not even sure _how_ I know this, but I know the name of the soap Cespenar used to wash our clothes."

They all stared at me dumbfounded; even Sarevok looked bewildered that I'd know such a thing. "How recently?" Jaheira inquired, her tone urging me to try and remember. So I tried, thinking back over recent events. In the sacred grove, waking up in my pocket plane, going to Saradush, going…

It was then that I had found the answer. When it dawned on me, I gave a chuckle and shook my head.

"What is it?" Keldorn asked, "Did you remember?" I nodded.

"Gromnir," I answered, "Right after I killed Gromnir. Yeah, now that I think about it, it makes perfect sense; I kill him and some new weird ability starts manifesting. Now I know what. An extremely keen sense of smell."

"Why would slaying Gromnir have anything to do with that?" Sarevok asked quickly, studying me closely.

"Well, in the past, when I've killed or…been near a Bhaalspawn who died, I sort of…I don't know, gain some new ability or power. Nothing really extravagant, sometimes hardly noticeable, but I know its there."

"You absorb the essence of others?" he asked, his own dull gold eyes flashing briefly. "When you slay them?"

"Yes." He fell quiet, seeming to think on this.

"Look, we can all talk about how fascinating I am later. Right now, we need to be moving out of this area, because frankly, I don't want to be around if the giants decide to take a stroll over this way." There were no arguments. We headed south, so as to steer clear of the giants and found a crossing over a rivulet, a rickety wooden bridge having to utilize some large slippery rocks mired in the current to complete the crossing.

This plan backfired completely, as instead of avoiding the giants, we all but ran into them. My first clue that something was amiss was right as we stepped onto the opposite bank, I heard Jaheira cry out, her hands over her aghast mouth. There was a mauled headless deer, or what was left of one in the weeds near the waters edge, pieces of its hide and patches of congealed blood dotting the foliage.

Further along, there was a more recently gutted and skinned moose carcass, the blood still dripping from its flayed body. It was quite the grizzly scene, and next to it we found a few tracks in the soft dirt, really _really_ big tracks, of grossly oversized boots. They were leading up a somewhat worn path, past some boulders and dense underbrush, which was growing over some manner of structure. Some sort of crumbling remains of an old building, the slanted and pointed roofs, what was left of them, suggested perhaps a church or house of worship of some sort. And there were the giants.

We could see their heads sticking over the tops of the ruins; as an idea to how _big_ they are, the ground trembled as they strode, a quaking herald to their approach. As they came out into the open, there were many other warriors, normal sized folks at their feet, avoiding being crushed. More of Yaga-Shura's men, accompanying the giants. They saw our group as soon as they rounded the corner of the building, and stood dumbfounded for a moment, staring back at us. Then the two giants, with a quick glance at one another, both raised their unnervingly large hammers, bellowed out a growling war-howl before stampeding towards us.

"Oh yeah," I heard the Lilacor gleefully shout as I drew my own swords with a groan, "Let's dance!"


	22. Gifts and Curses

**Chapter 22:** Gifts & Curses

Just as I knew he would, Sarevok objected to my not returning to my pocket realm to rest at the end of the evening. He voiced his anxiety for my safety, though the way in which he said it made it sound like a mere token gesture rather genuine concern. Despite that, it was still tempting. After our scuffles during the day, a place of sanctuary would be welcome in the night, where we would not have to post a guard or possibly have our slumber interrupted by rude monsters and hired killers, seeking to hang our skins from their walls.

It was a good point; in my adventuring career I've been forced to sleep in the wilderness, inhospitable settings, even in the fortified complexes of enemy forces, including many bases of Sarevok's previous operations. And often times it ended with legions of foes falling about us as we dozed. Not to mention our previous clash with the aggressive giant folk of the area. Facing giants head on was a bad enough of an experience. To have them sneak up on you unprepared and unarmed would be a complete disaster.

But all of my being was undermining the sense and logic in my decision. My plane may provide protection and safety, but the atmosphere was stifling, and even short times spent there weren't necessarily uncomfortable due to my recent upgrades, but unnerving to the mind. The emptiness, the quiet, the unnatural colors, and the eerie feeling of being constantly observed could make a man paranoid. As if I didn't have enough things to be suspicious about. And we were in the woods, under the trees near the water, a cool breeze settling our nerves and a small outcropping of rocks made a perfect spot for camp.

The thought of having another group of grumpy fire giants come storming after us in the night was not appealing, but we had spent the day traversing the woods, covering ground and scouting each area thoroughly. We only came face to face with those two giants only, and even that was more than I would truly have liked.

We had to roll out from under their feet as they came on the run, not to mention dodging their enormous hammers. Right behind them was the mercenaries, firing arrows and drawing steel. Fortunately, Jaheira was able to subdue the band of soldiers single-handedly, calling forth from nowhere a perpetual carpet of biting, stinging insects and arachnids. In seconds, this horde swept over them, and the men and women couldn't cut through the near infinite number of creepy-crawlies, their screams drowned out by the constant buzzing of insect wings as they were sucked under.

Sarevok and Minsc faced off against one giant, using their great swords to hack at the giant's legs.

"Ooo, we got a gusher!" I heard the Lilacor cry out excitedly. Gods, I _hate_ that damn sword. Keldorn was drawing the other giant's gaze while I dashed up, both swords drawn and tried to carve his shins to ribbons. I cut through his greaves and felt them slice skin, but I wasn't fast enough.

Keldorn was struck by the hammer, the massive weapon pushing his own mighty sword aside to land a blow, and the old paladin fell to the ground in a clatter of armor. I wasn't able to do enough damage to stop it, but Yoshimo was; having discreetly vanished at the start of battle only to reappear now, driving both his katana's into the ankle tendon of the giant, severing it with a fearsome slash.

The giant howled, dropping its huge hammer and collapsing to its knees, gripping its wounded foot. With his kneeling, he was close enough to the ground for me to make a high arching swing, the tip of my sword slicing the monstrous throat deep, loosing a boiling flood of crimson. Which I narrowly was drowned in, forcing me leap out of the way of the incoming tide. The soil began to promptly melt under the heat. Nasty stuff…

I stole a look at Keldorn, who had managed to prop himself up against a rock, Jaheira already tending to him. The other giant was lying flat out across the earth, with several large lacerations and a few of its limbs hewn off. I then glanced back at where the lesser soldiers had been. Most were dead, swollen and misshapen from the incalculable insect bites. The rest were long gone.

"I didn't know you could do that," I commented to Jaheira as she examined Keldorn. She gave me a cocky smile.

"When encircled by nature, my connection with it grows, and allows me to harness command of my surroundings to a greater degree."

"Huh, then I guess we should hang out in forests more often."

We didn't encounter much else after that grisly battle, finding traces of other giants here and there. We did cross paths with a few more disorganized bands of mercenaries though, but they were hardly a challenge, most fleeing battle after only a few moments. That meant all we had to do to keep ourselves occupied was to march onward through the brush, sticking to semi-worn paths when we found them, and searching for any trace of what we were perhaps looking for. Keldorn had been a bit shaken up, but his bright armor had absorbed a lot of the impact, so he was alright, but I insisted that we didn't push things. Not long after, the sun began to fall behind the treetops, I calling for a halt. And my brother gave off his usual heartwarming concerns for our wellbeing, but I felt safe enough where we were.

A small fire was crafted; we ate some dinner, preserved food that was more about sustenance rather than satisfying ones palate, and relaxed. Night came around soon after, and we all were ready to turn in.

But for some reason, even in the peace of the forest around me, I still couldn't sleep. My mind was abuzz, thinking deeply on all the things I had been hearing lately. About Bhaalspawn, about prophecies, about Bhaal himself. Most of all perhaps, was that I was a part of this little disaster, whether I wanted to be or not, which I didn't, and yet I kept wondering to myself where I could possibly fit into all of this. I'm just a simple swordsman after all, looking for a little adventure here and there, the concerns of gods and the heavens was never an interest of mine.

Now I was taking part in decisions and matters that could alter the face of all the known world; that thought alone was enough to make me a bit ill. And I couldn't help wondering if I would be able to survive this whole affair, or would I be swept up and away by the coming flood that I felt was coming? I wasn't sure, but I knew _something_ was happening around us, across the land. I could feel it…I could feel it in my Bhaalspawn blood.

And speaking of Bhaalspawn, as I turned and turned, hoping my rolling would pour these troublesome thoughts out from my ears, I caught sight of Sarevok sitting by the small fire, his back to me. He was motionless, except whenever a sound would emanate from the surrounding trees, prompting him to turn his gaze to inspect for trouble. I watched him for the better part of half an hour, before finally sitting up, abandoning my quest for rest.

"Not tired?" I asked him. He did not seem shocked at my sudden voice admits the silence. Perhaps he knew I had been awake all along. Without even turning my way, he shook his head. I pushed off my own tattered blanket, stood and moseyed over to the fire, sitting next to him. It never ceases to amaze and fascinate me at how much larger than I he is, especially at close range. A living mountain.

"So, you _can't_ sleep?" He still did not face me, instead glaring his cold yellow eyes into the fire.

"I do not sleep."

"Not ever?"

"When I sit here unmoving…that is rest enough."

"I thought all living things need to sleep."

"Though I may eat and bleed, I am not living. Not in the full sense of it. I am animated to life by the essence you gave me, but little more than that. Perhaps one day I will return to my full self once again, but until that time, I will remain this sentient mound of flesh."

"I see. Well, seeing as you quite literally _don't_ sleep, and I really _can't_ sleep, we might as well talk. Anything on your mind?" He remained silent for a time, and I was beginning to wonder if that was his somewhat delicate way of saying no, when he broke the silence.

"I wonder if we shall find what you seek in this place. And if so, will it be too late for Saradush? If the town is destroyed, this Yaga-Shura will pursue you, and disrupt our advantage. He is stationary now, but he will not remain so forever. Have you thought on this?"

"Well, of course. It bothers me, but truthfully…when I said talk, I kinda meant the more casual type of conversation. You know…the sort…well, brothers would hold? Seeing as we are, I guess it wouldn't hurt to act like it." He glanced at me from out of the corner of his golden eyes, and somehow I knew he was about to say something cynical.

"Would you like for me to pry into your personal life then? Your less than subtle correlation with the druid? Frivolous matters you attend to off the battlefield are of none of my concern nor interest."

"She has a name remember? It's Jaheira, and I don't think it will hurt you to use it instead of _the druid_. And I think it's a good thing you don't care as that's…well, a touchy subject for both of us. But you can't think of anything else you'd want to ask or just chat about?" He fell silent again. This time, I was all but certain that he didn't intend to continue speaking. Truly, he was quiet for more than five minutes.

"Tell me something brother," Sarevok spoke again suddenly, as he had a tendency to do, "Why is it that in all the battles thus far…you have not _once_ unsheathed the sword on your back?"

At this question, I sighed. "Only you brother…only you would take a heart to heart talk between sibling and steer it towards either the subject of Bhaal or of combat." He sat stone-still, waiting for my answer. I doubt he had even heard me. Figures…I glanced over at where my equipment lay, seeing the large handle of the two handed weapon jutting out from the leather harness for my back.

"Well…That sword is…_reserved_ for the larger creatures out there that I have to fight. Dragon and giants and such. Creatures of such power that these," I gestured to the Celestial Fury and the Equalizer which I always kept at my belt, "Literally just don't cut it. And the closer we get to that temple; I have a suspicion that I'll be using it more and more."

"I see." And that was all. A meaningful chat among brothers…how warm. Eventually, he began to speak again, the new topic predictable.

"Looking back to when I was still alive, I would have never imagined that you would have grown and developed your abilities of Bhaal to such a degree. That sniveling immature child back at Candlekeep, clinging to Gorion's robes…Had I not _known_ that you were a Child of Bhaal, I would never have believed such idiocy."

"It's nice to know that you thought so highly of me."

"But you understand why I did not? I am sure that you look back upon yourself occasionally. At to what you once were. Does it not astound you at how you used to be, only a very short time ago? At how completely you have changed due to the recent events of our times?"

"I've changed," I agreed, "But I'm still the same person. I'm just a bit smarter, a bit wiser, and more than slightly crazier. But down where it counts, I'm still the same man I was back then." Sarevok shook his head, as if he would know better than I.

"But the quintessence of Bhaal is far stronger within you now than it was," he pointed out, "It has influence over your being now, unlike before, when you never even knew of its existence."

"I'm _still_ the same person," I repeated, "even with that infernal power flowing through me. And most of the time, I can keep it in check. Other times…"

"Much like in the jail?" I glanced over at him. In times of combat, the yellow of his eyes shown out like candles, perhaps a manifestation of his inner wrath. But even here, at rest and at ease, he still had a trace of them, a lingering hint of that inhuman light. I had seen this glow myself, from the inside looking out. It was an experience I didn't wish to repeat.

"You're more used to it than I am. What was it like for you?"

"What did you feel?" He didn't response to my concern, instead answering my question with another question. It took me a long while to answer, as I did not like the answer. I found myself struggling and loathed to say it.

"I couldn't…stop. It was annoying at first, but then when the blood really began to spill, I guess my taint…reacted. I could hear…a voice, a terrible voice urging me on. Encouraging me to keep killing. That it was the best thing to do, that it was right…And I felt warm…I felt…_good_…" He pondered this.

"That is a feeling I know as well. Though I never heard a voice…besides my own." He fell quiet, and I did as well, the two of us sitting there. The fire before us crackled, bathing us in its fervent dancing light. I wasn't quiet for long.

"So? What? Am I turning into _you_ now?" This seemed to amuse him, for he chuckled a bit, his own brand of humor not being quite so cheering for me.

"I believe that one Sarevok in the world is enough. Though I would imagine that if you were to follow my previous actions, I have little doubt that you would succeed."

"What do you mean?"

"I will say this brother. Looking back, I saw that I was truly unaware of the power that was in my blood, exactly what sort of influence or control it could have over me or I over it. I do not think any Bhaalspawn alive can _fully_ comprehend it, but out of all the Bhaalspawn, I have little doubt that you are one with a greater grasp of understanding it, if not the greatest. No other has obtained the power of our dead father's avatar. The Slayer. And the abilities you even now display, the absorbed powers of our siblings making you stronger than any mortal. I would wager that only a few have accomplished this, the five we are searching most likely among them I'm sure. They too must have benefited from these gifts."

"Gifts?" I scoffed at this, hanging my heads between my knees. "I don't see them as gifts…More like physical abnormalities." He swung his head around, to stare at me intently. To be scrutinized by him, the man I had killed twice was unsettling.

"So you shun them? You do not see the abilities that you have gained as a blessing?"

"Blessing? More like an affliction…a scourge that I can't be rid of, not by medicine or healing. One that threatens to swallow who I am whole, and leave me as nothing but a mindless walking murder machine. Does that sound like a _blessing_ to you? _Nothing_ in this damnable Bhaal blood is a blessing. It's one big catastrophe after another." He seemed to think on this. I noticed the yellow in his eyes glimmer brighter for a moment.

"You say that, and yet I have watched you use and increasingly rely on the powers you so outwardly loathe. If you _truly_ hated them, you would not use them as you have. So why?" He waited, but I didn't say anything. I was trying to muster the necessary stomach to speak of this, which this conversation was having me do more than I really like. The topic, already sickening to me though it was, was also connected to a name I wished dearly that I could forget.

"Did you know of…Irenicus?" I asked him, my question causing his head to swivel around once again, looking me dead in the eye.

"That deranged fallen elven necromancer who stripped you of your divine soul, leaving you a shattered empty husk? Yes, I knew of him." The way he said it made it sound as though he was mocking me, but I knew my brother fairly well at this point. He was simply saying yes; the rest were just garnish.

"Well, when I was hunting him and looking for…for Imoen, I kept having these dreams, in which he was prompting me, urging me towards the power of Bhaal. I have little doubt he was using magic or something to make me have these dreams, but in one of them, he spoke of how there are many creatures of the world that are stronger than I am. And eventually I will meet my better and die. He then spoke of how I'd be able to crush any opposition of this world if only I acknowledge the supremacy in my blood and harness it. In a sense, that is what I am doing. I gain these…powers that they make me more than a normal mortal. I may despise my lineage, but if I can control these powers to protect my friends and defeat our siblings, so that this madness can be brought to an end, then I'll do it."

"And what if by relying on these abilities…depending on them…you accomplish your goals but loose yourself in the end to the bloodlust? You cease to be, becoming nothing more than a conduit for Bhaal's fury, much like I once was?" The very question I had been haunted by for a long long time. Ever since I felt the power of the God of Murder stirring deep within me. How would this end, if I kept dragging that awful taint to the surface, letting it bond with my soul more completely? What then?

"So long as it is over," I told him, my voice low and dire, "Truly over, and that everyone I care about is safe…then yes…I'd willingly fall in to the depths of darkness. And that seems to be the way things are going…This blood…it's a curse…it…it's an anathema to me, bringing nothing but chaos and death. There is no benefit in that. At least for me."

"You would see others saved and let yourself be destroyed," Sarevok mused, "A noble choice brother…and foolhardy, to sacrifice yourself for others…"

"That's just how I am. And others too. I seem to remember people you used to know who did the same thing…"

"Yes," he agreed hollowly, "And now they are dead, slain by your hands…"

With that, he turned away, and went back to staring into the fire. "You should sleep now brother. I must think on what you have said." I nodded, bidding him a goodnight and returned to my bed, occasionally opening an eye to watch him. He did not move, didn't even stir, just kept staring into the smoldering flames.

I didn't sleep much…


	23. Phantoms of the Forest

**Chapter 23:** Phantoms of the Forest

And as a result, I rose not long after I laid down. I was more than tired enough to sleep, and my mind was weary enough for me to fall into a catatonic unconsciousness, but pleasant slumber eluded me. I suppose the conversation with my brother had done nothing but stir some uneasy doubts and brought concerns I had been speculating on for a while to the surface. A mighty inconvenient time, but it was too late now. So I twisted and rolled, trying to sleep but nothing helped. In the end I merely rose up, feeling frustrated.

Sarevok was right as I left him, sitting on the fallen log, staring into the fire. I'm serious; I honestly don't think he moved an inch the whole time.

I saw that I wasn't the only one who couldn't delve deeply into slumber. Everyone else began to stir not long after I gave up in my attempts. Soon we were all gathered about the campfire again. It was still dark out, but after a short conference, we agreed to continue our traveling. The cover of darkness was useful especially if there were more Yaga-Shura goons creeping around. We packed up our camp and headed east, tramping through the forest at a slow pace, keeping our eyes and ears open. And my new and improved nose as well. The trees were thick in many places, too clumped for us to pass through so we had to scout around several times for gaps in the foliage to slip through. But that soon wasn't a problem any more.

It became increasingly apparent that we were getting close something bad, as the vegetation around us began to grow stagnated and stunted, the trees shriveling up and dying, and a foreboding mist had started to creep in, conjugating around us. Even the sky was feeling the effects, the scattered puffy clouds a few hours before had been replaced with a shroud of gray green, a slight rumble of thunder reaching our ears.

We came to a gap in the thick trees, where a road or walkway of jarringly uneven stones had been laid. We saw no end of this path in sight; it twisted a course through the heart of the woods. A forgotten roadway in the middle of the woods? How strange…

A feeling of being watched soon descended upon us all, everyone began to scour the skeleton trees around us for activity. Even Yoshimo's keen eyes could see nothing. Further, a sense of dread was also spreading, knowing that something bad was afoot.

"This place is most unnatural," Jaheira warned, her eyes running along the gnarled dead trees lining the wrecked cobblestone path, "There is a dire wind here, nature recoils from this place and I feel a lingering trace of a sinister presence. We should tread carefully."

The end of the path finally came into sight, and congruent with all we had seen thus far, it wasn't a welcoming sight. Before us was an enormous decrepit temple, only half standing, mired in the darkness, a massive hall of stone. Its architecture had a distinct old-style about it, eroded stone pillars outside, some still standing while others having fallen ages ago. There looked to be more than one floor; the archway at the entrance was half collapsed, and the entire structure was being swallowed up by the sickly looking vines, the only thing that seemed to grow.

"Well…" I couldn't help but grumble at the sight of it, "_This_ looks promising. Another rundown temple. How many of these have we encountered before?"

"This is place of power," Sarevok murmured, his arm gesturing to a fading cracked symbol on the fallen arch, one I knew well. A grinning skull surrounded by drops of blood, or tears some prefer. The symbol of Bhaal. "Places such as this retain much sinister influence, and would draw equally sinister opposition. Caution is advised brother."

"Is that your _professional_ opinion?" Jaheira sarcastically inquired. He only shrugged, but I could hear a tone of stinging retort in his answer.

"It is the opinion of someone who is not a fool."

"He is correct regardless," Keldorn agreed, "I can feel great evil here…I fear we must steel ourselves to face some grim horrors ahead." He already had his sword in hand as he spoke, readying himself. I felt compelled to do the same, but I did not, preferring to wait. We advanced towards the temple slowly, eyes open and watching. The fog rolled in at our approach, heavy and unyielding. And with it, came an unexpected shock.

_"Halt,"_ a voice from the mist called, _"Go no further my old ward…I would speak with you."_ I almost didn't recognize the voice; it had been so long…or at least, it felt like it had since I last heard it. From out of the haze before us, near the entrance to the dilapidated temple came a corporal figure, donned in a shimmering cloak and hood. Clutching a staff in faded elderly hands, a tuff of gray beard fell from the narrow face looking out at us, I almost couldn't believe it…the visage I knew all too well.

"What manner of foul necromancy is this?" Keldorn guardedly pressed, already clutching the grip of his holy sword "Who is this ghoul Dietrich? How does it know you?" But I could only respond to the form before me.

"Gor…Gorion?" I couldn't help but stammer the name, being caught off guard and completely by surprise, "No…you can't be…Gorion is dead…" The shadow before me nodded, having a faint amount of humorless mirth in his familiar voice.

_"Yes…Gorion, your step-father. I am surprised you even remember my name, much less who I was. As you seem to not remember all the things I strove to educate you in those years ago. Tell me young one, have you forgotten all of my teachings?"_ I took a moment to collect my wits before I answered. Deep down, down where all of my memories of my childhood lay, I _knew_ that this…apparition _wasn't_ Gorion…the man who had raised me into adulthood, the one who had taught and protected me. I knew, painful though it was, that he was dead and gone, and that this was some manner of foul specter attempting to manipulate me. But even though I _knew_ this, I still felt compelled to answer the identical voice of my only real father.

"Of course not. I've forgotten none of them, nor you. Why would you think that I had?"

_"I spent years instructing you, guiding you in your youth in an attempt to steer you from the path of your blood father. I sought to turn you into an instrument of good. But no…I can see all my teachings and efforts have been wasted."_ That struck a nerve.

"I _have_ done good," I told this spirit resolutely, "I have saved this land more than once, slaying all manner of evil beings seeking to spread chaos."

_"Have you?"_ that mocking tone returned_, "Saved it? How? By leaving a trail of blood, murder, and carnage in your wake? And what was their chaos compared to what you have wrought? Despite all I had done for you, you still walk the path of an abomination, slaughtering all in your way…"_ The spirit glowered at me; with the same keen eyes I had been chastised with when I was a child. _"You are a disappointment. I expected more from you Dietrich, yet in the end, you murdered even I."_

False though this being was, and despite the kernel of truth in what he said regarding what my course in life had been, _that_ was a falsehood I wasn't about to swallow. I gestured to the towering hulk of Sarevok, who was all but clinging to my back, no doubt glaring ice at this incarnation.

"Methinks you are confused creature; Sarevok is the one who slew Gorion…not I." This clarification seemed to anger the ghost, as its features contorted in rage.

_"A lie, young fool! A convenient excuse to pass blame onto another. But you will be made to see the truth…"_ And with no warning, my head suddenly swam with a flare of white fire, and I felt the world around me sway as I lost my feet, the pain driving me to my knees. "Dietrich," Jaheira cried out, at my side at once, holding me by the shoulders. I shook my head, the feelings fading. As I was still recovering, clinging to my throbbing head, the phantom continued.

_"I saved you Dietrich, hiding you from those that sought to slay you. I took you in and protected you. And I __**died**__ for you. You believe this beast here is responsible?"_ it gave a condescending wave to Sarevok, whose eyes were glowing with that brilliant yellow light, _"Bah, I would expect nothing less from Sarevok; he was enslaved to ambition, a fiend and thrall to the blood of the god of murder. Yet you defile my memory and yourself by bringing him back from death, and even hailing him as a comrade? Such impertinence…"_

"You tread upon thin ground old man," Sarevok warned with a low snarl, "I killed you once; do not tempt me a second time."

_"So much death you have caused Dietrich,"_ the Gorion facsimile went on, ignoring Sarevok, _"So many bodies left in your wake. And why? And for what? Your own lust for glory and power? No…You have been the cause of enough suffering in the world. You will not be the one who brings the prophecies of old to fruition. __**I**__ will not allow it."_

I managed to regain my feet, but not a moment later I felt and heard the stone path beneath me split. In a heartbeat, I used my arm to push Jaheira away, causing her to stumble to the ground. And a split second later, a pillar of fire came pouring up around me from my feet, enshrouding me with a searing blinding heat. Before I even managed to scream, the fire was gone, leaving me with only a few burn marks and singed patches on my clothes.

"I think I've had enough of this farce," I told the shadow with grit teeth. But it obviously wasn't done.

_"How many more must perish before you see the iron in my words? How many foes have you left behind, lifeless? How many former comrades, who met their fate in following you? What of the eventual pain you will cause the one you love? My old companion and friend, Jaheira? Will you let her suffer as well?"_

"I walk my own path by choice Gorion," Jaheira retorted sternly, climbing back to her feet. She then looked him up and down. "Though I doubt that is what you truly are, evil specter. The Gorion I knew would never be so harsh or callous, especially to ones he loved." The ghostly vision shook its head in disdain.

_"Then you are as lost as my old ward. Fitting you should be attached to him, one murderer with another…"_ He fell silent, only lifting one almost chillingly pale hand, and at once there was a gathering of the surrounding mist, conjugating around him, massing together. In moments it began to grow solid, taking on a humanoid form, until it was no longer a gathering of vaporous clouds before us, but a person. A man, a wiry copper-haired man of elvish blood. His features were quite similar to Jaheira's, the same violet eyes, the same elven visage, the same posture. I knew this face just as surely as Jaheira did. It was the face of her fallen husband Khalid, slain by the hands of the inhuman and ruthless Irenicus in his mad quest for redemption.

_"J-jaheira?"_ he called out, as if his vision blurry, even this copy of the dead half-elf having the same befuddled stuttering that Khalid had always used, _"Is…is it y-you?" _

"Khalid?" Jaheira asked bewildered, her own gentle voice hushed, her throat undoubtedly tightening, "No…no it cannot be you…This is an illusion…" But illusion or not, the clone still continued to speak.

_"W-why did you do it, my darling? W-why did you k-kill me? Was my love for you w-worth so l-little?"_

"No," she answered back stunned, "No, I do not believe this, you are not real, my Khalid would never say such things…never…"

_"Y-you insisted that we f-f-followed Gorion's ward…you insisted that we l-look after him. I w-warned you of what he m-might become, but you d-didn't…didn't listen. Tell me, d-did you love him e-even then? Did you l-l-leave me for __**h-him**__?"_ and he cast an accusing finger at me. I could all but feel the twang of pain run through Jaheira, as she wavered in the face of her dead husband.

"No Khalid, I did no such thing! I loved you…I did and I always will…but…you were…you were gone. Gone…" The shadow before us did not seem satisfied by this.

_"L-lies my love, lies! I am not e-even cold in the g-ground, and you d-drape yourself all over this m-m-murderer. I k-know now my wife…y-you never truly loved me, y-you never did. Y-you loved him m-more, e-even then, and you w-wanted me to die!"_

"NO!" Jaheira screamed back, and I had not seen her so shaken since she had first seen Khalid's corpse, her face was drained of color and she quaked with grief, "No, I will not…Khalid would never…I…I loved…"

She could go no further, her voice wracked with sobs as she fell to the ground, huddling herself. I was at her side in minute. "Dietrich…" she could hardly weep, "Please Dietrich…make it stop…" I intended to, and I gathered her close, holding her tight in my arms.

Even as I comforted her, I felt a stab of cold magic strike my back as I had my arms wrapped around her. I grit my teeth from the pain, and I could hear the ghoul that was mimicking my step-father speaking again, in the hauntingly familiar voice. _"I have shown you what you know to be the truth. And I shall not stand aside idly, allowing you to complete the prophecies that will cause more suffering to the world. I will not allow this; I will kill you myself first. Renounce your path of this bloodshed my ward, renounce your life to me and…"_

"_Enough!"_ I calmly exclaimed, interrupting his spiel as I rose to my feet, "I do not care who or _what_ you are; I will not let you spread these odious lies any longer. You are a sick and twisted atrocity, to manipulate a person's mind like this…This ends…_now!_"

And with one smooth motion, I whirled, my hand already pulling my sword free. I drew the Equalizer, but I wasn't nearly close enough to strike the cloaked monster. Instead, I did something a true blademaster would never think of doing. I used the momentum of my rapid turn, and the moment I faced the deceitful beast, I launched my sword like a spear, the singing tip aimed for its chest with dead-on accuracy. I did this faster than a mortal could blink, but it was still able to dodge. Almost. It evaded a direct hit, but the shimmering blade sliced deep into its right shoulder as it went rocketing past.

The creature let out an inhuman shriek of anguish as its arm began to shrivel under the purifying magic fire. Without even missing a step, I left Jaheira where she was crouched, drew forth the Celestial Fury, two hands grasping the hilt, and I swiftly charged my enemy.

_"Cunning god-child,"_ it hissed in fury, the deep dignified voice of Gorion replaced by a heartless resonant tone, two pinpoints of crimson showing from under its hood, _"I shall take great delight in devouring your immortal soul, and end your suffering now!"_

On the peripheral of my vision I saw the mist around me shift; beings of air, fog, and shadow coming out of the trees, completing the obvious ambush. But my friends would have to handle those; my only goal was the leader. As I stormed ahead, clouds of the unnatural miasma crept forward to impede my path, but with a single bound I was over the hurtle, and came down with ruthless fury atop the creature. But even though my sword was magical and I swung hard, the Celestial Fury ricocheted off before it struck. The thing…whatever it was…had magic, which it no doubt employed after the initial attack. Which meant this battle was going to be much harder.

But I had dealt with spell casters before. And I wasn't about to let this creature escape after committing such heinous crimes. I gripped my sword, and slashed into it, striking in a relentless sword form that would abandon all pretenses of defense, only to hack repeatedly at my foe. And each time the sword was turned away before it struck. Even though I wasn't a mage, I knew enough about magic to have learned that no protection spell was permanent, and that this particular one would eventually come crashing down, leaving it vulnerable. But unfortunately, until it did, _I_ was the vulnerable one.

Because of my style, I wasn't even making an attempt to block any blows, so when the creature landed a hit on my shoulder, I saw my error. The staff it held was a simple weapon, but its telltale glow should have alerted me to something otherworldly and baleful. The moment it struck, I felt a cold numbness creeping through my left shoulder and down my arm. I recognized it for an item used to drain ones life-force, like vampires.

I leapt back with a curse, adjusting myself, and I squeezed my left hand around my sword hilt, hard enough to tear the skin, the slight echo of pain kept my arm from being totally useless. I stepped in again, this time attacking strongly but remained wary of any counterstrikes. With my calculating and inexorable blows, the thing was giving ground; retreating, dodging when it could. I saw my sword getting closer with each hit and I knew I was almost through its magic shield.

Foul spirits always have multiple means of self-preservation however, and as I came in to press even further, a sudden blast of cobalt flames erupted around its body, wreathing it in a protecting circle of fire.

I retreated with a backpedaling jump, shielding my face from the indigo flames, cursing the thing and whatever hell-pit it had crawled from. Before I could even assess a means through this newest defense, I suddenly felt another wave of ice wash over me and a sickening feeling in my stomach made my legs buckle. I looked down and to my loathing and disgust saw a ghostly apparition was poking out from my chest. Its head was vaguely humanoid; its neck twisted at an obscure angle so as to direct an almost invisible psychotic grin up into my bleary eyes.

I staggered back, swinging my weapon to try and decapitate the unwanted protruding head, but it merely eluded my blade by twisting itself around to avoid it. I think I heard a dry hiss which may have been laughter. And with each moment, I could feel the coldness growing; it felt as if my insides were beginning to frost over.

Abruptly, with an airy shriek and shuddering of its own, the formless entity withdrew, and I felt a slight wash of warm fall over me as it left my body. I was able to steal a look behind and saw Jaheira, leaning on her staff, her arm wavering but outstretched. Several of the dangling vines growing about the temple ruins had followed her command, wrapping around the wispy end of the creature and pulling it back out of me. I was mighty glad to be rid of the hitchhiker.

Still, I swayed at the unnerving feeling that swept through me, but I steeled myself to stay standing, once more staring down the glowing monstrosity, it no doubt grinning behind its whirling vortex of azure flames. There was only one thing I could do to stop it now lest it escaped in the chaos. With no hesitation I charged again, tearing right through the cold fire, which both burned and froze my body. But I didn't care. I was too furious to care about injury, I just kept slashing, using the most complex maneuvers I could muster with my fogged mind.

I think it was surprised by my somewhat foolhardy decision to plow straight through its offensive defense obliviously. Eventually I felt the satisfying sensation of my blade slicing through something solid, causing the wraith-creature to let loose another whistling screech, pulling back, attempting to vanish into the mist. But no…there was no escape for it; I had already resolved to annihilate this lying repulsive shade. I would slaughter it into nothingness and spit on its remains…

I drove in hard, pursuing it, continuing my assault with near reckless abandon, and it took me several moments of multiple pounding swings to realize that I had killed it somewhere along the line, what little remained disintegrating into dust and tattered robes left on the ground.

I felt completely drained and the chill numbness swept through me, making my head light and causing my teeth to chatter. Before I could exhale a welcoming sigh of relief at the conclusion of the nasty business, I recalled the other mist creatures from before, and turned on my weary heels. Everyone was still standing, somewhat. Keldorn was holding his almighty Carsomyr aloft, it emanating a soft blue radiance, the few animated vapors remaining repelled by its power. Several of their corpses, transparent and no thicker than a piece of parchment lay scattered across the cobblestones.

Jaheira was slumped again, as was Yoshimo, his normal exuberant eyes looked dull and his complexion a pallid gray. Sarevok was still standing, his face looking colorless and his eyes, though fierce, had the same look of nauseating exhaustion. Minsc was the only one outside the ring of protection, he too pallid but too enraged to even notice. He was swinging at one creature that was toying with him, vanishing into thin air, only to reappear moments later to drag its near invisible claws across him.

I blinked rapidly, to try and clear the haze, and I glanced behind, to make sure the master wraith was truly dead, and I caught sight of the barest of shines. It was my sword, the Equalizer that I had sent flying. A sword of powerful anti-evil would be useful right about now. I retrieved it, forcing my arm to reawaken from its deadened state to seize the hilt with a half-hearted grip. Then I rushed to their aid.


	24. Old Followers

**Chapter 24:** Old Followers

It must have been the clumsiest charge I had ever made, but with two legs that felt halfway anesthetized, it was better than merely collapsing on the ground and taking a nap. I stumbled as if on stilts, but I came up behind the closest outline, its almost translucent body having a slight olive tint to it.

With a single stroke, I split the mist holding it together; its seemingly intangible body caught fire, as it wailed its mournful cry before it fell to the stone ground, withering away. With me on the counterattack, Sarevok gave his head a toss, looking close to being dead once again, and loosed a surprisingly vibrant snarl before stepping out of the circle of safety, assisting me.

Keldorn remained where he was, defending the drained Yoshimo and Jaheira, whilst Sarevok and I, both worn down by the ill-effects, undoubtedly staying on our feet by sheer force of willpower alone, continued the fight by eradicating the remaining wraiths to nonexistent shreds.

Minsc too, though he was able to keep fighting due to his near barbarian rage, finally hacking his troublesome spook to bits. Keldorn lowered his protective barrier, and it was unanimous that we all felt weak, left shattered and sapped of strength. Only Jaheira had escaped with no injury. At least, no physical injury. I didn't kneel beside her so much as I collapsed beside her, and eventually she seemed to firm up her resolve.

"I…I really did not need _that_, that damn phantom and his accusations. How dare he…to defile the memory of Gorion and Khalid with such…with such…" Her previous distressing shock had given way to startled anger at the indignity our loved ones had just suffered. I too felt more than just a twinge of explicable rage.

"Yes…an insult to the people they once were. The living have a hard enough time with those that are gone without villainous specters drudging up painful memories…" She nodded, though I don't think she fully heard me, she was still absorbed in her own aggravation at the shameful dishonor.

"I mourned for the dead," she went on, "I have felt their passing in both body and mind, and I strove to see the fallen are avenged properly through retribution. But to be accused of…of dishonoring them with my actions, to say I had gained from their deaths…I have…I have punished myself for much..." We both knew this. She had, despite how it was not at all her fault, blamed herself for the death of Khalid, just as I had felt somewhat guilty in surviving and in becoming close to her in the following months. But we had both put all these distasteful matters behind us.

"Jaheira," I soothed, "You've done more than enough…more than _I_ have for certain. You have honored the memory of Gorion and Khalid both, and no amount of lying from that spook is going to change that. And the last thing either Gorion or Khalid would want would be for you to let their deaths consume you with uncertainties and guilt. They both cared far too much about you to let you do that to yourself."

"This I know…" she seemed tired by the whole nasty affair, but she did managed to turn a weary smile up to me, there being a playful raised eyebrow on her beautiful face. "Why is it that whenever I am at a loss of words and feeling unsure about myself, you suddenly spout off logic and sense that shows wisdom beyond your years? Could it be that you are smarter than I ever believed possible?"

"Oh no," I answered, a smile of my own appearing, "I'm only the logical one when you're too tired to think. As soon as you are rested again, I shall hand the title back to you." I gave her shoulders a hug and we turned to our comrades.

Everyone was suffering from the ill-effects of Negative energy, the life-sucking power of wraiths and undead. Even Keldorn with his sanctified paladin aura, reinforced by the Holy Avenger looked haggard and gray. But it was only thanks to said holy aura that the effects were not more serious. Yoshimo crouched, showing that while wily and crafty in the ways of trickery, he had not the same indomitable constitution as my towering golem of a brother or the berserking endurance of Minsc.

"I must say," Yoshimo heaved for air, his Kozakuran accent wheezed, "_That_ was a most unpleasant experience, for all parties…I sincerely hope that we encounter no more treacherous specters like that in the future. I believe one encounter of that sort is more than enough for a single lifetime."

"Agreed," I checked to see if he was physically wounded. But no, the apparitions of haze only wanted to drain us of our living essence. Fortunately, as we had no cleric on hand any longer, I kept several scrolls in my trusty bag of holding to dispel such ill effects. Jaheira had a hard time deciphering them, but she always found a way; she wasn't one to take defeat of any sort easily.

Before long we started feeling the cold clamminess fade from our bodies, and we all regained our color. I was still suffering from long lashing burn wounds from the wraith's fireshield, but Jaheira quickly tended to them, putting ointment along the burns and wrapping them. Once healed, I insisted that we halt, perhaps head back to my pocket plane to recuperate, but everyone objected.

"We've come this far," Yoshimo gave a half-grin, "We must at least see what lies before us in this place before we retire again. Surely you know that we are not done in so easily after a simple skirmish like that?"

"That wasn't exactly an _effortless_ battle Yoshimo," I countered, "and there could be even worse ahead."

"That is true," Keldorn agreed, "But be that as it may, I know that it will take more than foul trickery and creatures of mist to hold back _our_ advance. And we cannot tarry while Saradush is in mortal danger. Let us press on."

"We need to know if an answer to our riddle lies within," Sarevok reminded me, "Best to know now, or else sleep will elude you no matter when and where you lay your head."

That _was_ a good point, but I had a hunch that my frustrating insomnia was going to keep hanging around so long as the whole Bhaalspawn mess was just over the horizon. I didn't say so, but the consensus was for us to continue, so I begrudgingly gave up and submitted to the masses. We weren't in any danger of dying I suppose, and there _was_ much to do.

Stepping over the tattered remains of the wraith-lord and his minions, we started over to the temple. Just seeing that symbol of Bhaal over the archway made my skin crawl.

"Boo does not like this place," Minsc cautioned us, holding his furry friend close to his armored chestplate, "He advises everyone to keep our swords close in our hands and to tighten the laces to our boots so we be ready to imprint them upon the backside of evil. Else they track their foul bile of wickedness all over our shiny clean floors of justice!"

"Must you bellow so loudly?" Jaheira shushed, "All you accomplish is alerting our enemies to our location. We don't require your hamster to alert us to dangers." But to be honest, I wish that Boo _had_ warned us about what lay ahead.

We heard the shuffling shambling of the skeletons only moments before we saw them. As we stepped through the fallen arch, amongst the gloom and vine covered inner hall we saw several hunched skeletons, creaking and groaning as they tramped to and fro in across the shattered remains of the floor. An especially large skeleton, standing behind an altar as crumbled as the building around it, noticed us the instant we entered. It pivoted its head with a harsh grind before craning its neck remnants my way. Then, it pulled back sharply, and pulled itself up to its full rather unsettling height.

_"Rejoice!"_ it cried out, lifting its arm supposedly in joy or triumph, _"The Lord and Master has returned to us at last! All hail the Lord of…"_ It's hollow voice trailed off, still locked in position with its bony hands thrown upward in joy at the announcement. I personally have never seen an animated skeleton make a face other than their innate grin of my skulls, but I had to struggle to stifle laughter at its comically bemused face, it's jaw hanging open, vacant eye-sockets staring at me. And despite its lack of regular vision, it leaned out to me, as if it somehow perceived my presence and was scrutinizing me.

_"No…wait, it is not the master. It is one of the vessels…for the master's power!"_ It loosed a furious bellow, lifting a hand towards the other minions, _"Kill it! Kill the abomination and set our master's power free! FOR THE GLORY OF BHAAL!"_ The following battle was not nearly as funny as the previous spectacle. These were skeletons, but they were of a different variety, in their own separate class of undead.

Four of them were normal skeletons, no problems, but two, including the large one that had spoken began to chant, waving their skeletal arms, alerting me to spellcasters. Two others were wickedly fast, their movements blurred and far beyond normal speed, whilst the remaining four were hulking constructs, made from a random assortment of bones, resulting in malformed monstrosities with immense strength and versatility.

And we were beset in a flash, each of us spreading out in a line, branching out. I clashed with the two swift moving skeletons, their blades diving for my unprotected chest, aiming straight for the heart. I countered, but with some difficulty. They each had two daggers, moving like lightning, their smaller blades faster than mine. One managed to slice my upper right arm, and I felt a tingling sensation that I knew was poison. Thanks to a little necklace I wore under my robes however, I wasn't affected, with the exception that the pain inflicted made me angry.

When the skeleton in the lead came in, both blades out, I raised the Celestial Fury to block which send both its arms reeling, then moving fast, I took a half step forward, making a diagonal slash aimed for its kneecaps. I struck, and its torso became separated from its legs, falling on its back, struggling to regain its feet that it no longer had.

As I turned my attention to the second speedy pile of bones, I heard a blast and felt a crackle of electricity raising the hairs on the back of my neck, and I had to wonder who was on the receiving end of that attack.

Sarevok hadn't allowed one of the spell casters to launch any spells, having darted in and vaulting over the crumbling altar, only to come down sword first, splitting its skull all the way down to the breastbone. Minsc had followed suit, charging the smaller counterpart magic user with a wild yell. He wasn't fast enough, and it managed to launch a lightning bolt which blasted straight into Minsc with enough force for him to be disarmed.

But Minsc hardly noticed. The Lilacor meanwhile, went spiraling through the air even as Minsc rushed in, all the while yelling out, "YEEAAHAAA!" The enraged ranger then proceeded to tackle his foe; the force of his weighty armored body falling atop the fragile collection of bones was enough to grind it to dust.

Keldorn and Jaheira were both facing down the monstrous constructs, Jaheira's heavy staff crushing bone to powder and Keldorn's holy blade driving them away. Yoshimo dispatched the simple skeletons with ease, then managed to assist in bringing down one of the big bone creatures. I made a lunging feint, which the skeleton fell for, and a moment later its head was split diagonally, and it crumbled to ground, the perverted magic fading. Everyone rejoined, Sarevok bringing his giant armored foot down atop the legless skeleton's head, the hollow crunch of its imploding skull was jarring to the following silence.

"You know," I commented, "I kind of miss the old days where the skeletons we encountered were just normal walking bones. These advanced versions are really starting to drive me crazy."

"As we grow and develop our skills," Yoshimo offered with his usual quip, "So must our enemies strive to make themselves challenges for us, lest our adventures would be fraught with only boredom and monotony, rather than excitement and peril."

"At this point, I think I could use some of that monotony right about now…"

The lower floor yielded nothing whatsoever, a jumble of broken tiles, broken alters, and heaps of ancient bones. And a lot of weeds. I was starting to get that nasty sinking feeling that we weren't going to find anything helpful in this decrepit temple and that we had suffered that diabolical mind-rupturing trap for no good reason.

One of the staircases was destroyed and the other didn't really look all that safe, but I wasn't about to stop because of some rickety steps. Sarevok offered to go first, being the weightiest of all of us, but I ended up leading the way. A small childish part of me wanted to be the first one to the top, and the first one to see if anything useful lay up there. And since I _was_ at the head of our column, I was the first one to see the green flames.

A great altar stood within four stone pillars, covered with another slab of rock, creating an enclosed space. And roaring in the center, erupting out of nothingness it seemed was a scorching emerald bonfire, its significance or purpose a mystery. Regardless of its function however, there was someone knelt in front of the immense blaze. A person, covered with a frayed gray cloak, worn and patched, it draping across the ground, obviously too large and flowing for the wearer. Whoever it was didn't move, didn't make a sound, only sitting there silently before the grand fire.

As we crossed the floor, approaching, only then was there a reaction. The cloaked figure rose, standing at a rather short height, turning towards us, the face lost beneath the shrouded hood.

Two pale withered hands reached up and pulled the hood down revealing the face of an old woman. Well, ancient sounds better, wrinkled and sunken, her pale skin dried and haggard, as if she had been through a thousand lifetimes. I almost thought she was a lich at first. Tatters of crystalline white hair, wild and thinning fell in every direction, and her posture was hunched and putting off the perception of her frailty.

And although old she was, there was something about her presence, that spoke of an almost oscillating vitality and vigor. Her eyes too, held an exuberance and inquisitiveness of youth, perhaps a gateway of herself that could show one a trace of the young woman she had once been.

Aside from all of these things though, the moment I saw her face, I at once went on guard. For there was a sheen of sharp calculating intelligence there, that of a master manipulator and thinker. With that as well, there was the telltale gleam of madness in her dim gray eyes, one I knew well. And madness never bode well.

"Ah," she gleefully cried out, her voice wavering and shrill, "You have come, come you have! The powerful Spawn-Child of the dead master. You've come to see old Nyalee, you have, come to see old Nyalee!"


	25. To Quench a Heart

**Chapter 25:** To Quench A Heart

I didn't even bother asking her how she knew who and what I was. Those eyes of hers seemed to pierce through me with an insatiably hungry curiosity.

"Pardon me, uh…madam…but what are you doing in this place?" I didn't think I had said anything particularly funny with this question, yet she tossed her head back and cawed a disturbing laugher, like dead leaves rolling through the wind. From the corner of my eye I saw Jaheira wince slightly at it.

"So polite and kind Spawn-Child is," the crone cackled, "so mannered and honest…Not like other Children, no no, this one far from them…" She shuffled a few steps closer, extending an ancient hand out to me. "Come closer Powerful One; come closer to old Nyalee, so she might see you better. Old is Nyalee, and see well she doesn't…"

I took a few steps closer, letting her look me up and down with a toothy smile, her eyes holding mine.

"Ah, handsome and powerful you are Spawn-Child, fortunate you have been, oh yes. But you are wary, I see, wary of Nyalee. Come, stand before me Child, I mean no harm to you…"

I didn't want to get too close at the moment. She may have been just a crazy old woman, but I wasn't taking any chances. After all, she hung out in a dilapidated temple of Bhaal chock full of undead. Not the usual haunt of the sane.

She seemed to understand. "Nyalee lives here just fine, amidst loyal Bhaal servants, she does, and Nyalee is I. Witch of the Glade I am. But questions you have Spawn-Child, oh yes, many questions you have for old Nyalee."

"I suppose I might. What makes you think I'm here to speak with you?" She let out that hoary laughter once again, her whole skeletal form trembling at the force of it.

"Nyalee knows much Spawn-Child, she does. Knows you've been coming, knows why you are here!"

"Then speak you old hag," Sarevok commanded, "And cease your mindless riddles." His words only served to amuse her further, as she turned to Sarevok.

"Nyalee knows more than just the Powerful One, she does. She knows you too, Sarevok, oh yes. She sees what's happened to you little one, falling under the spell of the blood, and loosing your power. Now you have little, very little left, and its speaks of the Powerful One, it does. So, wrestled back from the depths of Hell you have? Clever little Sarevok, oh so clever to escape from Fate, you are!"

On the surface Sarevok never gave any sort of reaction to what he was thinking or feeling, and this time was no exception, though I have a suspicion that he would have butchered her ruthlessly if I wasn't there. The old witch must have known that for she gave him a dismissing wave and turned to me, her muted gray eyes now narrowing with seriousness.

"You have come because of my boy, that traitorous half-giant boy of mine, yes? You've come because of Yaga-Shura? My boy had been trouble for you, much trouble, and trouble for old Nyalee as well. You've come to find a way to his blood yes?"

"Your boy?" Keldorn asked with noticeable skepticism in his voice, "Are we to believe that this Yaga-Shura is _your_ offspring?" Nyalee gave Keldorn a disapproving glare, eyes narrowing, flicking up and down him, taking note of his weapon.

"Nay, foolish paladin, nay. The traitorous boy did not spring from Nyalee's loins, but old Nyalee raised him like a son, raised him to be strong. Nyalee saw him as a powerful one too, and stole him as a babe from the crib, raised him here, she did, raised him like her own."

"You've raised him like a son," Jaheira was reciting carefully, "Training him to be strong, and yet you speak as if you would assist us in stopping him. Does this mean you wish for his death?" At that, Nyalee's face contorted in rage, causing Jaheira to step back in caution and Sarevok and Keldorn to step forward. But she paid no notice, instead tossing her head back and yowling like an enraged feline at the dead branches overhead.

"Nyalee took in the boy, cared for him. Taught him the old tricks she did! Ungrateful boy left Nyalee here to rot with mindless shambling bones, and betrays her! Steals her heart, damn him!"

"Uh, is anyone getting this?" I asked, looking around. Nyalee seemed to disregard our presence, going off on a deluded rant, wavering her arms about and stalking back and forth.

"She seems to have a grudge against Yaga-Shura," Jaheira stood by my side watching, "He learned what he needed, betrayed her, and left her behind. Regardless, if she raised him, then she _must_ know something about his powers, and she sounds as if she is willing to help us. Perhaps our cause is still achievable."

"Oh yes, Nyalee will help Spawn-Child," the old witch turned to us, her haranguing frenzy vanished like smoke in the wind, "Nyalee will help to defeat traitorous boy, oh yes. Foolish boy won't see it coming, no he won't, too busy killing siblings that he won't know what's coming…"

"If you can help us, then I thank you. Tell us Nyalee, how can we defeat Yaga-Shura? How can we overcome his invulnerability?"

"Slowly, Spawn-Child, slowly, Nyalee must explain everything…Once long ago, Nyalee wasn't so old and was a great cleric of Bhaal, servant of the master yes. But when Bhaal died, Nyalee was striped of her powers and looked for other ways to survive. Came across ancient magic's she did, powerful ones. And stole the boy, teaching him the secrets too. Hoped to create a new God of Murder, Nyalee did. Foolish old Nyalee…"

She trailed off, a glimmer of nostalgia in her voice.

"So these vile magic's of old are responsible for Yaga-Shura's invulnerability I take it?" Keldorn brought her back to the present with his noble voice. She glared at him, shrugging impatiently.

"Vile, righteous paladin says. Speaking out of ignorance you are. Understanding the true way of things you do not."

"Enough," Sarevok snarled, his forbearance having expired a few minutes ago. He strode forward, now towering over the gaunt old woman, brought his burning yellow eyes right up to hers, his hand reaching for his massive blade. "Tell us what makes Yaga-Shura invulnerable else I will crush the rest of you to dust right here."

I'd have to say that just about anyone on the whole face of Faerun would have felt at least slightly intimidated by the tremendous hulk that was my impatient brother, with his burning yellow eyes and almost palpable bloodlust, but Nyalee didn't so much as flinch. She grinned up at him with a sly smile instead; perhaps knowing he was merely trying to frighten her into divulging what she knew. And though she wasn't influenced by Sarevok's words, she did indeed answer.

"His heart, restless one, it is. It's his heart. Nyalee taught him that she did. Taught him to remove it, to keep it safe from harm. With no heart, die he cannot."

"I must apologize for interrupting," Yoshimo nudged in, "But do you mean to say that he…well, _literally_ took his heart out? I was not aware such a feat was possible, magic or no."

"Oh yes, wily trickster," the ancient crone cackled, "Many things like that has Nyalee learned, passed on to foolish Yaga-Shura. Keeps his heart awash in magic flames, he does. So long as his heart burns, die Yaga-Shura cannot. You wish to defeat him them Spawn-Child, defeat the traitorous boy of mine?"

"Yes. So I take it then that I must locate his heart and find a way to extinguish this…burning fire…before I can fight him?"

"Nay hasty Spawn-Child, nay. Magic that strong does not break easy, it does not. Only Nyalee knows what must be done to quench his power, oh yes. But the treacherous boy…" her face filled with fury once again, shrieking to the trees around us. "Stole my heart, he did, stole Nyalee's heart! Damn the boy! And without her heart, Nyalee can't use her powers and have vengeance." She turned to me once again.

"Find the boy's heart Spawn-Child. Find Nyalee's heart as well. Bring them here you must, then Nyalee will put out his heart. Then…hah ha ha ha! Oh so surprised the boy will be, oh yes, very surprised!"

"Where would he keep them?" Jaheira asked her, "Close by surely…With him in his army's camp, to protect them?"

"Not with him, the hearts are not. Keeps them safe, locked away he does. A shrine he has, built for him in fire mountains. Many followers he has. There they will be, guarded most carefully yes…you must search there Spawn-Child."

"The Marching Mountains…" a name Melissan had spoken of. "We are heading that way right now, so we will certainly search for both Yaga-Shura's and your heart while we are there. And when we return, we can finally confront and stop Yaga-Shura."

"This is _very_ confusing," Minsc cried out in frustration, shaking his head, "This talk of hearts and giants and strange magic's are going far over poor Minsc's head. He doesn't know anything about hearts, no sir, Minsc only knows how to stomp evil with his boot and to journey the land with friends and Boo. But Boo thinks you know much, heart lady, know much more about hearts."

"Astute your critter is," Nyalee answered with a beaming smile, "Much Nyalee knows about hearts. My boy's, old Nyalee's…even powerful Spawn-Child's heart, oh yes, Nyalee can see his very well. A good heart, valorous and untamed."

"Well…I thank you…I suppose…I always thought it was a good heart myself…"

"What would you know about his heart?" Jaheira was watching her warily, perhaps suspecting foul play, "Wishing to take it for yourself?"

"His heart yes," Nyalee cooed, stepping forward slowly, her gaze never wavering from me, "Nyalee would like to but cannot, not without hers first. But she can see into your heart Spawn-Child, she can. Can see it well. It's a mighty heart full of strange things, things Spawn-Child normally would not have. Place for you, nature's warrior, a big place yes…Feel for you he does…your heart is similar, Nyalee sees…"

Jaheira cleared her throat, a tint of red rising to her cheeks, and the witch turned to me.

"Now quickly Spawn-Child, retrieve the hearts quickly you must. Time is short for you yes, must hurry. Find the hearts and return. Then the blood of Yaga-Shura you shall have…"


	26. Hot Footing It

**Chapter 26:** Hot-Footing It

"I certainly don't like the smell of this," I commented.

We had departed the Forest of Mir, continuing our trek east, eventually emerging from the dangling trees to hard rocky ground. And stretching out before us was the dark outline of the Marching Mountains, a dry harsh collection of burning rocks, as fire giants have a liking of hanging around active volcanoes. There was an overwhelming smell of sulfur and burning in the air, laced with the unpleasant aroma of more fire giants. No doubt they were creeping around in droves just ahead.

"What an asinine pursuit," Sarevok was staring up at the mountains towering over our heads, looking from peak to peak. "An entire range of mountains, and we seek but a single structure, undoubtedly built into a mountainside. We'd have been better off with extracting more useful intelligence from the hag than running about aimlessly here."

"I believe she made it quite clear," Jaheira disdainfully told him, "That without her own heart, she would be unable to help us, regardless of your savage means of interrogation."

He responded with a snort, but said nothing further.

"I guess we better get looking then," I suggested, feeling the same way as Sarevok. It was a daunting puzzle as to where to begin; the mountains seemed to stretch limitlessly in every direction. It wasn't looking good, when we literally stumbled on to our solution. I was staring upward at the peaks far overhead and lost my footing, tumbling into the hot dirt.

"Ack, damn rocks…" But no, it was no rock.

There, in the dirt on the stone ground in one of the many passes was several oversized footprints pressed deep into the earth. We gathered around a cluster of them, as our ranger, expert in tracking as he was, scrutinized it.

"Many giants around here," Minsc told us, running his hands over the tracks, with Boo sniffing the inside one of the huge footprints, "They walk here often, back and forth like Boo when he's hungry."

"Patrols," Keldorn surmised, "Which most likely means we are outnumbered. If the temple ahead has extra numbers to send out to secure the grounds around it, they surely wouldn't leave the temple empty."

"Still, perhaps finding that shrine won't be so hard after all…" I noted the frequency of the tracks, being clumped and numerous, "They look like these use these paths all the time, and I'd be willing to bet that they all head back to their base when they're done. Follow the tracks, and we'll find them no problem."

"And in following them," Sarevok reminded me, "We come across each and every fire giant that is tramping about along the same route, sucking us in one battle after another and giving away our element of surprise."

"Would you rather wander around for days looking for it?" I countered, "At least here we have something. Sure it has its risks but still…"

"He has a valid point," Jaheira gave Sarevok a withering glare, "There is little hope that these tracks will be untrodden today, and there is far greater risk of discovery in doing so. However, as you said, it would be unwise to search about such a large expanse with no clues. And as we are pressed for time and have not the leisure to wander, we must take the risk."

"Well," Yoshimo surmised cheerfully, "Then I suppose that means we had best be doubly careful, and surprise the giants rather than them surprising us."

And just as he had said, the next time, _we_ were the ones who got the drop on _them_. A simple matter really, as giants have no knack for sneaking, what with their ground-shaking footsteps to advertise their location. We were tracing the deep boot prints in the dry soil when we all started to feel the tremors, approaching from behind. With a jerk of my head, we all dove off the path, concealing ourselves in a clumpy patch of stunted grass, peeking out.

Moments later, three fire giants came stamping around an outcropping of rocks, following the tracks we had associated with their patrols. As with most guards, they did not seem to relish their duties, plain from the disgruntled expressions they each wore, but they certainly were not lax in their responsibility, their eyes sweeping back and forth for any signs of life or intrusion. Fortunately, they never seemed to look straight down, not noticing the tiny scuffs next to their own sizeable imprints. They passed our hiding place without a peep, and went on their way.

For once, Sarevok did not rush out ahead of everyone on the attack. This time the honor was mine. Without even pulling my blades free, I dashed around the rocks and rushed after them. With my swift bounding run, they didn't truly notice me until I was at their feet.

My hand reached around, grasping the lengthy hilt jutting from the blade attached to my back, the time to drawn it having finally arrived, and with a single smooth pull brought it out and to the ready. This sword, my third and final, was quite a sight.

It was of bizarre and exceptional make, not that of human, elf, or dwarf. It was a curving blade, that radiated a dark aura around it, though not quite the same sinister evil of the Soul Reaver. This one was more of unseen malevolence. But it was a blade of unimaginable sharpness; the blade's resonance from merely pulling it from its sheath sang a beautiful song. The entire blade was polished a stainless silver, the hilt clearly designed for a less humanoid hand. A githyanki sacred vorpal sword, a holy relic of theirs, very symbolic and meaningful to their kind. However, I am not one to let go of a truly remarkable sword so easily. We fought to claim it, and in the end, I won their prize, earning me yet another enemy.

Using the momentum of my rush to carry me in, I swung it in a single clean sweep and I felt the blade slice in to the lower calf of the unprepared giant. And once again, I was amazed at its sheer power. The silver sword didn't so much as cut as it did pulverize, slicing through the armored leggings, sturdy leather, hardened giant skin, and even the colossal bones of his leg with no resistance. I may as well have been carving air.

The giant certainly felt it, there being a bubbling flood of boiling scarlet from the grievous wound, causing the brute to howl in agony. Further, as his lower leg was now hardly attached, and with his tremendous weight crushing down on his wounded limb, what little that kept it attached broke with a grisly snap. His severed appendage fell to the earth like a falling tree with a thud, leaving him with a stump pouring out blood.

The giant came down with an agonizing scream, clutching his stub, his searing life-blood pouring through his fingers.

The other two turned to me, but were divided, one barreling right for me, the other held at bay by Sarevok, Minsc, and Keldorn, their great swords chopping at his legs.

I side stepped the hammer head of my opponent as it came crashing down to grind my bones to powder, feeling the earth tremble as it impacted only a span or two to my right. I pivoted my body about and brought my sword down on the broad wooden haft of the hammer, my silver blade slicing it clean in two, changing the giant's weapon from an enormous warhammer to a big stick.

Despite that, the giant went on the attack with his modified weapon, swinging it wildly while kicking out with his feet, trying to squash us.

Yoshimo rolled out of the way, before Jaheira dashed in, her staff discarded, now wielding her scimitar, and plunged it into the huge booted foot. The giant roared, and kicked out at her, Jaheira abandoning her weapon where it was to evade. My next swing took a chunk out of his calf, and his wrath turned promptly to me, his enormous fist rushing down to clobber my head in.

I lifted my wide blade, catching the blow, which had enough force to make me go skidding backward. I pulled out from in front of the attack, driving my sword down into his thick forearm, tearing open another ghastly wound. Each time he tried to attack one of us, we ducked out of the way, delivering a swift counterattack. And he was starting to grow tired from the exertion and loss of blood. Fire giants are horribly powerful brutes, if they land a blow it'll knock you out for the count, but they have no flexibility or speed. So the trick is to stay one step ahead of them without getting anything in return.

And with a few more timed attacks, Yoshimo cut a significant artery in the giants leg, causing a tidal flow to pour out, and it didn't take long for the giant to bleed to death, sinking to the ground clutching his wound. The other giant was in pieces, but since our three armored fighters didn't have as much maneuverability as the rest of us, both Minsc and Sarevok had some minor wounds, their cuirass's absorbing much of the impacts. That left the one other giant whose leg I had severed. But no, he had died somewhere along the line, from the shock I'd imagine. Losing a limb isn't a very pleasant experience, something I would know about…Ah…never mind…

That was one patrol down, an unknown number to go, at least that's what we thought. We thankfully only encountered one more scout team on our trek, once more getting the drop on them and slicing them to pieces. And just as I had surmised, we came to the end of the footprints.

"That must the temple," Jaheira pointed upward, "Not the most inconspicuous of choices…" The path ahead looped around a daunting lava pit, and climbed a steep incline, which would have been no more than a rolling hill to a giant. At the top was the base of a mountain, the path leading straight into it and into a yawning cave, the entrance covered with a gilded golden arch of ornate design.

I was certainly glad that we had found it without too many tribulations. But then, finding this place amongst the entire mountain range was half the battle. In fact, that was probably going to have been the easy part. Next came going inside. And there was no telling as to what waited for us…or was there?

"Yoshimo," I called to the thief, gesturing upwards towards the towering temple, "I wonder if it's possible for you to sneak up there, and take a look around? I'd like to know what we'd face beforehand, lest we charge right into the middle of a fire giant picnic." He gave me a grin in return.

"Of course my friend, I'd be honored! And if you'd like, I can dance on the head of a pin as well…" I returned the grin, as it always tickled me for some reason whenever he said that little quip of his.

"As interested as I am in seeing such a feat of dexterity, I think this had better come first. Perhaps later. Just don't step in a pit of lava and melt while you're out there…that'd be bad."

"Undoubtedly," Yoshimo bowed, and slipped off, vanishing the moment I took my eyes off him.

"Ah," Minsc cried out, looking this way and that, "I am in _awe_ at how the small man can disappear and reappear so easily. It is enough to make me wish I could do that. Can you do that Boo?"

With Yoshimo on reconnaissance, we hunkered down behind a large pile of boulders, staying out of sight as best we could. It would have been unfavorable it we had been spotted by a vigilant sentry and prompted an enraged horde of fanatical defenders to come stampeding down on top of us, so we stayed put.

There we sat, amidst the rocks, my head in my hands, counting each and every agonizing moment that crept by with us doing nothing but waiting. I hate waiting, as do many people, and my patience, normally quite extensive, is put under significant strain when forced to do nothing but waste time.

"Ranger," Sarevok barked out, breaking the nervous silence, "Turn you rodent's gaze another direction. I will not be scrutinized as though by some ridiculous divining rod!" I looked up, and threw a glance back and forth between the two. Boo was perched on Minsc's shoulder, staring straight at Sarevok, who was sitting, an admirable feat in that heavy armor, with his normal dour expression on his face. His own yellow eyes had flared up, piercing back at the loveable black eyes watching him intently. Minsc gazed down at his ever-vigilant advisor, before turning back to Sarevok.

"Boo is an uncanny judge of character…but _you_…yes, you seem to be giving him trouble with your peculiar nature."

"I shall give him more than that, if this continues. I nearly conquered an entire nation and made weak men fall to their knees before me. I will not be judged now by a creature that stores nuts in its cheeks!"

"We should all be so lucky to have ample storage space for such things," Minsc countered, "But food holding capabilities aside, do you see Boo ranting and growing upset by mere glances? Let's look…" and he turned to scrutinize Boo closer.

"What are you babbling about?" Sarevok growled at him, but Minsc did not seem to notice.

"There…You see? No ranting. As a matter of fact, Boo is now scuttling around my pack, looking for a nice place to bed down. That is admirable restraint, don't you think?"

The light in Sarevok's eyes seemed to waver, and he had a look of almost tired exasperation. He then glanced over at me. "Brother…let us go kill something…soon…"

"There you see?" Minsc pointed to Sarevok's face with a pleased smile, "A calming expression at last. Boo's handiwork no doubt. But he too is growing restless and agrees; there is much evil butt to stomp, and we can do no stomping while we are sitting here. People are not saved by sitting, that is true! There must be much swinging of valiant swords and killing of evil giants!"

"Which is good as there will be much time for that soon," spoke a voice, and out stepped Yoshimo from behind a rock, "We do indeed have our work cut out for us here, it seems."

"What did you find out," Keldorn pressed, rising up, "Were you able to enter the temple?"

"Indeed I was, though no small task it was. The interior of the building itself was a temperature of staggering proportions. No doubt enjoyable to fire giants and their kin, but quite stifling and suffocating for us normal people. And it would seem that we are not as alone here as we would like to be. There are still many more giants ahead I'm afraid, on their home ground no less. It shall be a significant chore for us to enter."

"Well at least it's not his whole army up there. If we take them on a few at a time, we can whittle their numbers down, and be able to move around." I stared up the hill, towards the distant opening to the temple. "I say we don't give them a chance to find us. Let's strike now and hit them hard. Nothing beats the element of surprise."

We climbed up the hill, Yoshimo on point, keeping an eye open for guards or scouts. The last thing we needed was for them to know we were coming, giving them ample time to prepare a defense.

As we crested the hill, approaching the gleaming doorway into Yaga-Shura's hidey-hole, I gave a wave of my hand and everyone fell behind me, drawing their blades.


	27. Losing Control

**Chapter 27:** Losing Control

I had been in several forges in my life, and the temperature was always unbearably hot. I was always reminded of an enormous oven, and I was a loaf of bread stuffed into it to bake for hours on end, to achieve the perfect golden brown. How smiths worked in such an intolerable environment was a riddle I would probably never solve.

But entering this place, this haven of fire, was anguish filled torture. I felt the air sucked out of my lungs, the moisture of my skin shrivel, and every last muscle in my body began to spasm due to the pain. I think my eyes also began to perspire and even my hair recoiled, almost shriveling up, all traces of moisture gone, unable to congregate in that room.

And as I was so preoccupied with the overpowering temperature, that I didn't notice the yells caused by our entrance.

Fire giants…how many, I couldn't even tell. Seven…Ten…I didn't bother counting. There were a lot, suffice to say, and we were in serious trouble.

A gargantuan pit of boiling fire dominated the inside of the room. Two doorways, one to either side and a colossal double set of stairs led upward, following the climbing slope of the mountain the temple was built upon. All over the floors there were iron grates, the bars hovering over more fire were a scalding bright scarlet, pouring out boiling clouds of steam, probably able to roast a man alive.

But scenery aside, we had made quite a stir in the temple. There were several guards right on the inside, striding about the entrance and as we tried to sneak inside, they howled, alerting the rest of the shrine and probably the rest of the Marching Mountains that there were intruders afoot. And several more came crashing down the stairs, waving their hammers and raising a god-awful cacophony. What a dedicated welcoming committee…

Four of them were on me in seconds, probably having singled me out as a Bhaalspawn and the rest of the world fell away. I was rolling and ducking like never before; dodging one hammer, pulling up short and sidestepping a giant boot, then another, another hammer, a fist or two, and another two hammers. They were literally raining blows down on top of me, leaving me no chance to counterattack.

Since I was unburdened by armor, I had speed on my side, and that was all that was really saving my life, my ability to keep one step ahead of their attacks. But with so few chances for me to fight back without leaving myself with a more than likely fatal opening in my defense, and with all the running around, I was starting to get weary. The inferno beating down on me throughout this entire battle certainly didn't help matters either.

With me so pressed I had no way of knowing how everyone else was fairing, if they were even alive, and if any of the giants had fallen or if their reinforcements had arrived. Things were looking grim…

Then in the midst of the chaotic melee, I heard a cry behind me, having a distinct feminine sound, and as I sliced the huge meaty arm reaching for me, sending the brute reeling for a moment, I stole a look behind. In one horrible instant, the horrendous heat of the temple faded to nothing, as an arctic chill of dread tore through me.

A giant was standing over Jaheira, having a rotten sneer on his ugly continence. And Jaheira, to my panic, my horror, my unrelenting alarm, was prone, face down on the scorching floor, the blood around her sizzling away. And even more, the giant was lifting his boot, lifting it to finish the job.

"_**JAHEIRA!" **_

I was numb in an instant, the whole horrifying image burned into my eyes and my brain, as all pain and fatigue I felt from the battle faded. I lunged out, turning my back on my enemies, providing them a clear opportunity to smash my back to splinters, and started to scramble to Jaheira's side and assistance.

But I felt as though I was moving at a phlegmatic slog, as if mired in mud, watching with grim horror the realization of things…I wasn't going to make it. I was about to lose the woman I loved, the woman who I lived for now and forever, lose her to some twisted-toothed haggard giant leviathan who was about to maliciously grind her into the floor. I could feel my heart pumping…I could already feel the agony…the suffering of a loss tantamount to losing your own soul…I knew that sensation all too well…

The world around me seemed to grow sluggish and everything began to fade…I could hear the rapid thumps of my heart…

And I could hear the laughing of the giant…as his foot descended…

And…I could hear…

_**KILL THEM…KILL THEM ALL…**_

And I felt…the blistering heat…fade away…and I felt…I felt…the…the burning…fury…Growing…Growing…

- - -

- - -

- - -

Sarevok Anchev had always been an efficient killer throughout his living years, having taken his first life at the age of ten, a young man whom he had beaten to death with his fists. He was no stranger to violence and mayhem; in fact it was those conditions that he seemed most comfortable with, having a niche for that sort of vicious behavior. And in his death and rebirth, little had changed.

And he also knew well of the power of Bhaal, the fury and strength in the blood of a god, able to make an otherwise normal man into a ravenous murderer, to take delight in pain and death, relishing the kill. Truly, combat and the taking of life was an ecstasy that all Bhaalspawn knew. Sarevok wasn't technically a Bhaalspawn anymore, but he still felt the near insatiable hunger and lust for murder. He had to work to reign his urges in during situations that required no killing. But any circumstances that ended with violence and death, so much the better for him.

Because of his great and terrible size, his mammoth strength and overall resilience to harm, he was an instrument of destruction and murder, a true testament to Bhaal, a near perfect warrior and a masterful taker of life.

But even he, with all his skills and experiences throughout his harsh and cruel life, had never seen anything like what happened in that temple.

As he entered, he was perhaps the only one to shrug off the almost mind-numbing effects of the heat. The fires of Hell had scorched him after all…mortal flames could not compare. And there were nine giants, all of them armed with great hammers and wearing iron wrought armor customized to accommodate their girth and size.

Sarevok did not have the same dexterity as his brother, but his blows were swung with extraordinary force, carrying his fearsome blade deep into his foes, tearing massive gashes along their meaty legs, stretching out with his long reach to deliver punishing wounds as high as stomachs and lower chests. One on one with a giant, Sarevok could walk away certainly…

He was not worried about his opponent, and he turned when he heard his brother scream out the name of his lover, Sarevok noting the unmistakable gleam of panic and anguish in it.

_The fool_, Sarevok growled in his mind, _I warmed him…_

But his thoughts of condescension soon gave way to amazement, as he watched his brother charge across the room, loosing not the sobbing and shrieking of that of a bereaved lover but the bellowing snarl and howl of a maddened beast. Sarevok stood on and stared, as he watched his brother dash past in an instant. But in that briefest of glances, Sarevok saw enough.

The man wielding the great vorpal blade had not been Dietrich, the brother who had killed him beneath Baldur's Gate and who seemed to be oftentimes witless. No, this certainly not him, that was clear, instead a murdering being with none of the same hesitations and qualms as his brother, his whole person had altered into another consciousness.

He transformed in a sense…at least that's what it looked like. But not a physical transmogrification, such as the Slayer, that hulking monstrosity of a beast that reeked of death, but a drastic and complete change of the soul.

It was as if all the essence of Bhaal, all of his ideals and everything that he stood for came roaring to the surface, and using Dietrich's body as a mortal conduit. And Sarevok bore witness to results.

Dietrich had charged the offending giant, and with a coiling of his legs, he leapt. An astounding feat, as it was not the leap of a human being; this vault lifted him up nearly twenty-five spans into the air, and carried him well over seventy spans in distance. And as he descended, sword over his head, it came down with all the wrath and fury the twisted expressions on his face illustrated, releasing another raging shout. The blade sank in and with the smoothness of cutting paper, and made a clean separation.

The giant's leg came detached from his knee, the hewn limb striking the floor, pouring blood and beginning to sizzle as if bacon on the griddle.

As before, the giant had fallen, reeling backwards all the while screaming in relentless pain at the loss of his leg. He hit the ground, writhing and hollering, but that was not the end of his torment.

Dietrich wasted not a moment of time and leapt upon the prone giant's face, sword point preceding him, stabbing downward again and again, gouging the giant's façade, destroying his skull and carving out his eyes with the ruthless stabbing. And with each thrust, as he mangled his opponent savagely, he was laughing madly, a crazed dark laughter as he was splashed by wave after wave of gore. The other giants stared at the display of mindless carnage.

By this point, all other fighting had ceased, the two sides had forgotten their own battles as every eye turned to watch the appalling display.

When his head, with two blazing yellow eyes turned towards them, his lips pulling back to show a mouth of glittering fangs in a crazed sanguinary smile, the remaining giants, now numbering eleven, began to back away. Here and now they were facing the same awesome power that their leader possessed. But this wasn't like Yaga-Shura. No, this was something even darker. Something unrestrained, ferocious and cruel, a beast of murder.

"_**No,"**_ the terrible voice that came rolling out of Dietrich's mouth was soaked in maliciousness and evil, _**"You had made your choice when you rose to challenge me. Face your own annihilation fools!"**_

With that same maniacal grin, he bounded, and in a startling motion, he rose upward, his jump carrying him all the way up to the giant's shoulders. In an instant he had landed on one of them, before plunging his blade, covered in blood, into the huge neck, slicing the giant's jugular vein and throat from the inside out. The giant gurgled, as he gasped for air, blood pouring, and he sank to the floor. Dietrich was already moving again, leaping to bring the blade down into the shoulder blade of another giant, nearly slicing it in twain. Then he vaulted again, this time spearing one straight in the face, hacking his nose off.

Sarevok stood on, his own bloodlust gone, almost as if it had been sucked up into Dietrich and now channeled against their foes. The rest of Dietrich's friends were gathered around the fallen druid, and Sarevok made his way over, his eyes never once leaving the spectacle.

He watched this in awe; his expression betraying his absolute stupefaction at the slaughter he was witnessing. Watching his brother leaping among the horde of giants, slicing with each pass. The giants, taken over by near hysteria, were running into each other, lifting their hands to stave off the blows that seemed to come from every direction at once, screaming in their terror and pain.

And all the while, as he leapt about like a beast possessed, tearing the giants to pieces, he was screaming. It sounded bestial, primal, and though it was difficult to tell, perhaps even exhilarated.

_In such a frenzy_, Sarevok spoke to himself, looking on in incredulity and the slightest twinge of apprehension, _he could kill everyone in this temple, his enemies and allies alike without even slowing his stride. All of us could not stop him as he stands…Truly…I was never his equal. Dietrich…You are worthy of becoming the God of Murder. More so than even I…_

- - -

- - -

- - -

The world came back to me slowly, everything was still so blurry. But it started with sensations. I felt a sweltering heat all over, as well as a relentless scorching pain, even my earlobes and toes were screaming in distress, a jolting throb coursing up and down my frame. I could feel my blood, still pounding through my body.

The smells that greeted me were of heat and blood. No big surprise, that was a common result after a fight. And I had been in a fight…I think…My arms were halfway numb, my shoulders stiff and unresponsive. And I could feel a familiar warm stickiness that had sickeningly soaked me down to the skin. So when my vision began to return, I saw that yes, I was drenched in blood. Again. But I also saw something strange.

There was a mountain before me, in the center of the fiery room; one that I was sure wasn't there before. I squinted, taking a staggering step or two forward, letting my sight come back fully. Then I saw.

It was a mound of corpses, fire giants stretched out on top of one another, adorned with severed limbs and weapons, armor pieces torn asunder and gods knew what else. All along the floors were long frantic stains of rapidly evaporating blood, many huge footsteps having stepped in the viscous goo.

I had been involved in many fights in my life, big epic struggles against big epic creatures that had significant impact upon many people. But the end results were never like this, so gruesome and senseless. This had a distinct feeling to it, one I didn't even need to speculate on. I didn't bother asking aloud what happened. I knew. But then it came back to me, as I remembered…

"JAHEIRA!" I screamed, turning around and around trying to find her. I spotted everyone, standing over her; just on the other side of the cadaver pile. I scrambled up and over the daunting heap, across the slippery floor, dashing to her. Everyone pulled back, letting me through, and I fell to the ground beside her, lifting her into my arms.

Her face had several dark burn marks, bloodstains in her soft hair and splattered across her clothes. Her left arm was bent the wrong way, her armor was dented and split, totally destroyed, and I could feel a large misshapen lump along her abdomen, as something large was askew and out of place.

I could feel the choking gasping rising up again, as I could only stare down at her mangled body. My eyes began to scream in pain as I felt tears drip, evaporating on my skin in seconds.

"No…No, dear gods no…You can't do this, goddamnit, you can't…You've taken everything…everyone…Not Jaheira…no not her…not…Jaheira! Wake up please! Don't let them take you from me…I...I…"

I couldn't go on anymore, I broke down in sobs, hugging her to me, wishing with everything that I was, everything that I had that she would not leave me. I was unaware, but from deep within the temple, there were the sounds of yelling, and echoing of approaching footsteps.

"We need to go," Keldorn commanded, gripping my arm, "Back to our sanctuary. We must see to her wounds immediately…Dietrich…" But I don't think I even heard him…I could only stare down at the woman I treasured more than my own life, unmoving, blood-covered, and I could actually feel my sanity starting to slip. There was a pain at my shoulder, as Keldorn squeezed down on my collar with harsh force.

"Are you going to curl up in a ball and do nothing?! Pull yourself together man," he barked, his own stern eyes now looking fearful and worried, "I understand your grief, but we cannot stay here. Take us back…now!"

I glanced back between him and Jaheira, knowing that in this place…this horrible god-forsaken place…

I nodded, as everyone grabbed hold of us. And in a swirling of magic, we were gone.


	28. I Will Not Lose You

**Chapter 28:** I Will Not Lose You…

I remember all too well the feeling…Like someone plowing their fist into your chest, gripping your heart in a iron handclasp and forcefully tearing a part of you out, severing you bit by bit from your being.

It was the way I felt when I watched my loving stepfather Gorion, impaled upon my half-brother's blade and then mercilessly thrown aside to bleed to death.

And I had felt it again when I had held Imoen's pallid corpse in my arms, weeping and feeling my heart all but shrivel up, knowing that my own burning connection to my heritage had robbed her of life. Her death was caused by me.

Both times it felt as though a part of me had died, perhaps because I knew that deep down I was an indirect but nonetheless responsible party to their deaths. The burden of guilt was thrust upon me.

But the thought of losing Jaheira, who had been a friend, whom I had grown to love more than anything and everything…no, it was more horrible than spending all eternity in hell.

It was something that always had me worried, every time we engaged in yet another massive battle against evil foes. Jaheira was our healer, she always had been. When we were injured she tended to us, curing our wounds with her loving care and her heartwarming smile. If she ever got injured though, we'd have no way of helping, making me feel helpless. If we ever fell in battle, she could appeal to the powers of nature to restore us, calling us back from whatever lay beyond life. If she died…if she died…then…I died with her.

We arrived in a rush of wind, and all I could do was stand there, cradling Jaheira in my arms, feeling powerless. With all of my terrible abilities, able to slaughter the mightiest of creatures and invoke terror upon the most dauntless of foes, I couldn't even save the one I loved. Keldorn was easing me forward and speaking no doubt, but I could hardly hear him over my grief. It was deafening…

Cespenar came floating in from nowhere to greet us, and saw the situation at once, flying up to examine Jaheira.

"Big trouble theres been! Uh oh, she no look good! This way master!" he called, urging me to follow, "You want Cespenar to help lady?"

"What?" I blurted out, "Can you…you can help her?"

"Yes oh yes, Cespenar is good at that. Come this way master, me will help!" I dashed after him in a flat out run, leaving everyone where they stood. Cespenar led me to Jaheira's room; the one I had made for her, and had me lay her on her bed. He then fetched some buckets of water and other things, what looked like herbs and such. Whilst he was examining her he must noticed that I was hovering right behind. What can I say, I was frantic. He then insisted that I leave the room, letting him do whatever he was going to do unhindered.

I was tempted to refuse, I _was_ the great master after all, but I didn't think I could bear to watch; I was already teetering too close to the brink. Something like that might have pushed me over the edge…

I don't know how long he had been in there working, but I was pacing about the main room, not sitting, not eating, not resting. Minsc and Yoshimo had retired for the evening, eating and drinking before leaving their equipment in heaps by the portal. Sarevok seemed to vanish, probably shut up in his room to think about…well, whatever twisted subjects he liked to think about.

Keldorn was the only one who remained, sitting at one of the long wooden tables, slowly sipping a mug of something that smelled like rotten tomatoes. He was awfully quiet.

I knew he wanted to say something and it was only a matter of time before he did, but right then I was wholly focused on Jaheira's condition. Nothing, not even the corruption of my own soul and self mattered. I had asked Sarevok exactly what had happened during my…lapse, and he told me everything, going into all the gory details about my transformation and my crazed slaughter. In one way, I felt as if another piece of my soul had just turned a bit blacker, having temporarily succumbed to the evil inside. But another part…and at the current moment, the biggest part…was relieved beyond the words of thanking that I had…If I hadn't…then…Jaheira…

"I am worried about you," Keldorn finally spoke, clearing his throat, and giving me that solemn and earnest stare. "After witnessing what I have seen…"

"If you should be worried about someone," I interrupted hotly, even though I wasn't truly angry at him, "Then let it be Jaheira. She…"

"I _am_ concerned for her, of course, but her will is strong, far too strong to submit to such. And I have no doubt that she shall recover in due time. But she does not have a demon burning inside of her, a demon that I believe I have seen fully today. Not since the time you transfigured into the Slayer, that beast of purest hate and darkness, have I seen such malevolence in your soul. Had I not seen it today, I do not know if I could believe you possible of it."

"Tell me about it," I murmured absently, "I certainly don't see that looking back at me in the mirror in the morning."

"This is _not_ the time for jokes," he barked abruptly, sounding extremely serious. When I looked around at him, his dim blue eyes were narrowed deeply, and I could see the trepidation in him quite clearly. "This is a grave matter that requires all your thought and focus. I know you understand…you know the seriousness of what you unleashed today…" I paused in my pacing, thinking hard back to the battle, before I had been overwhelmed.

"I…honestly don't know…I can't remember anything. I saw Jaheira lying there, and everything seemed to dissolve…I only have vague images of what happened…like a dream, one that fades as you wake up."

"I see. In so doing, you loose all memories of what transpires. As if they are intentionally kept from you."

He fell quiet, taking another long slow drink. Keldorn had always been troubled by me and my connection to evil. Many, like Sarevok had given in to it, having let their hearts and souls be consumed by the ravenousness hunger. I had resisted thus far, maintaining my own integrity and honor in a world that was sadly lacking. But now, even I was beginning to slip, with the current crisis even my iron resolve was beginning to buckle under the strain. It was hard to witness for him, I'm sure, seeing a friend breaking down into a fiendish demon. Watching and witnessing the light fall to the dark.

After several more contemplative moments, he sighed, reestablishing his eyes to mine.

"I want you to listen to me Dietrich…"

"I…I am…"

"I am your friend and ally, as I have always been. And I shall always be your friend no matter what awaits us. But in my service to you, I must also remember my duties as a servant of Torm and a member of the Most Noble Order and Radiant Heart. My obligation as a paladin is to face whatever evils lay in this world, no matter what form they take. As I told you before, I know what sort of man you are; you are virtuous and true, as noble as I myself even. But in recent days, you have been shifting…against your will true enough, into the darkness you carry." He leaned forward, his cold eyes narrowing.

"These changes…have been happening more and more, and I fear that you have entered a downward slope. Each time you surrender to the taint, it grows stronger, and holds a greater sway over your soul, giving your sire a greater foothold over you. You were able to harness that frightening and terrible power for your benefit this time, but what if you hadn't stopped when you did? What if you had continued? What if you had turned upon us instead, not differentiating us from your enemies, and slaughtered us in your frenzy?"

"I _know_ that, believe me. It's a frightening thing…for my consciousness to be seized from me, only to wake up and see the horrors another part of myself unleashed in that time. It keeps happening, easier and easier…Even more, it might get to a point when…when I can't return to myself…The darkness inside of me won't relinquish control…and I'll stay that way…"

"I can only pray it that doesn't happen, lest I _must_ take action." I looked at him hard. He wasn't smiling, he wasn't joking. He was more serious and grave now than I had ever seen him.

"If that should ever happen and you completely change into such a being, then I want you to know…that I will do what I must to protect the world and ourselves from you…Laying down my life to see the evil vanquished."

"So you too would turn on him?" I nearly fell out of my seat in surprise, turning to see Sarevok hovering near the hall, listening in. We'd been so deep into our conversation that I hadn't noticed him. Keldorn gave him a staid look, before rising to his feet.

"I am vigilant, nothing more." Back to me again. "For your sake and for ours as well, I can only pray that you can contain the fiend inside until this ends."

He made his way towards the hall, passing Sarevok. But he paused.

"And you should not encourage such acts, as I know you do. There is nothing down that road except damnation and death. Surely you must know this by now? If not, then I fear that this return to life for you has been meaningless." And without another word or a look back, he departed, returning to his own quarters.

"We shall see," Sarevok answered aloud, watching the old paladin leave. Then my brother turned to me, pointing back the way he had come. "Your imp butler is finished." I was up and moving before he was done talking, nearly tackling my way past him in a dead run. I found Cespenar outside Jaheira's room, wiping his hands off. He saw me coming on the run, and lifted a finger to his wiry lips.

"Shhh, not so noisy…" I skidded to a halt, waiting for the news. He gave me a beaming smile, pointing at the closed door.

"Lady fine now," Cespenar told me cheerfully, "She just need sleep. Be up and about soon."

"She's…alright? She'll be alright?" Cespenar gave me a funny look, giving off a little giggle, before patting me on the leg.

"Oh yes master…She no look good, but it not so bad, easy to fix."

"Thank you Cespenar," I reached down, and grabbed up the skinny imp into a huge hug that could have choked a tiger, almost swinging him to and fro in my exhilaration, "I cannot begin to thank you enough for saving her. I…I wouldn't know what to do if…" He began to make stifling gasps and tapping me on the arm, signs that I needed to let go. He breathed for a moment, but still held on to his merry imp-smile.

"No thanks needed master. Cespenar is glad to help Great One however me can. If that means patches up the lady, then Cespenar happily does. You need anything else patched up?"

"I think her armor was destroyed during the fight," I recalled her banged up plate, "If you could fix it…and…well, make it stronger to better protect her…then…"

"Yep yep yep, Cespenar can do that, oh yes! Yous leave it to me master, I take care of it!" And off he went, zigagging across the hallway in loopy dips, making up a little tune as he went.

I knew Jaheira needed sleep, to rest and recover, but I wanted…_needed_ to see for myself that she was okay. So with a long scrutinizing glance in both directions, I gingerly opened her door a crack, and slipped inside, closing it behind me.

She was laid out in bed, buried under the blankets and quilts. Her clothes, still muddied and bloody were folded neatly over a nearby chair, which made me wonder what Cespenar had dressed her in, if anything. I peeled back the covers quietly to observe.

Now I want to say right now that I'm no lecher, nor a pervert. I was…just curious…And concerned too…I was checking on her wounds too…No hidden motives there…

She was wearing a soft silk nightshirt; the one I had bought her in Amn when we had started to grow close. And all of her cuts and injuries were gone, leaving her just as she had always been. Radiant…

I so badly wanted her to awake right then, just so that I might gather her up, hug her close and never let go. At the moment though, I was simply overjoyed that she was still breathing. So I sat. I was content to wait, and until she opened her eyes, I wasn't about to move.

She slept and I waited. Waiting is tough, but for this, I'd sit and remain there until the stars themselves crashed into the face of Toril. But faithfulness aside, I've never been good with inactivity. My head began to get heavy, drooping down.

I didn't fall asleep…I was slumping, sort of staring off into space, not really aware of the time or anything else, when I thought I heard my name being called. It was faint. I stirred, and when I heard it again, I lifted my head and found myself staring into two breathtaking violet eyes.

"Jaheira," I exclaimed with relief, rising up in exhilaration, "Are you alright…how do you feel?" She tried to move, but clutched her side, wincing.

"What happened Dietrich? Where are we…?"

"My plane…You…got injured in the temple. We brought you back here." With a nod, she settled back into the pillow. "I was injured…" she murmured before turning to me, her violet eyes narrowing. I sat down next to her, running a hand across her brow.

"You…had me really worried…" I confessed airily. Let's hear it for the world's biggest understatement.

"I am fine, but what of you?" I gave her a puzzled look, as one of her hands reached up to press against my cheek. "You look so pale…and your eyes look different…distant, as though they are haunted…" Her own gaze hardened with a familiar seriousness, as she struggled to sit up.

"Hold on," I blurted, reaching out, "You're supposed to be resting. There's no need to…"

"I am fine, thank you. You however, are most certainly not. Dietrich," she turned my face towards hers, staring at me, "What happened? After I lost consciousness…What happened?"

"What do you mean?" I lied, "After that we left and…"

"Do not be shifty with me," she interrupted me curtly, "You have no gift for falsehoods. And your face tells a grim story. Now tell me the truth Dietrich."

I stared back, lowering my eyes. Now, after everything was said and done, knowing that Jaheira was going to be alright, I felt a little ashamed at what I had done. And though even weakened, I couldn't hide it from Jaheira's intuitive deduction. So I gave her the same graphic details that Sarevok had conveyed to me. Through it, her eyes widened in alarm, mouth falling open in shock.

"You would destroy your soul for my sake?" she admonished me, grasping my hand, "Dietrich, you _know_ better. We have both seen what will happen should you continue to do this. I will not have that."

"I almost lost you in there and _I'll_ not have _that!"_ I answered fiercely, "I've lost everything I love as I have walked this path. Gorion, Imoen, Candlekeep, and countless friends. All of them were tied to me, and they died because of me. I may be a walking curse, I may leave death behind me wherever I go," I gripped her shoulders, before drawing her to me in a fierce hug, making her emit a slight gasp, "but _I will not_ lose _you_ to this damn curse in my blood. _I won't_. I can't. If it happens again, then I…I…"

She cut me off, pressing her lips against mine, stifling my stammering words. I pulled her close, feeling her press up against me. With that, I felt everything; all of my fears and horrors shrink away. Jaheira was alive and in my arms…I felt content with the world at that moment.

When our lips parted, she leaned her head against my shoulder, her auburn hair soft, silk paled in comparison.

"And I won't loose you either. When we first met at the Friendly Arms, I had no idea what might happen between us. Everything that we've been through…We have both changed. And as far as we have gone, I'll not let you become consumed by this harrowing evil now, when things are coming to an end."

I held on to her for a while, not wanting to let go, still relieved that she was alright, I just couldn't get over it. As we sat, she turned her gaze up at me, scrutinizing me over carefully.

"_You_ need sleep," she ordered, "You are looking more and more like a ghost these days. You will never succeed if you are constantly fatigued during our travels."

"I wish I could…" I told her truthfully. And I did, I was so sick of spending my evenings twiddling my thumbs doing nothing. It was maddening. "I'm tired enough to fall unconscious, but it's no good. I can't think of _anyway _that I'd be able to fall asleep."

"I believe I can..." With that she pulled away, and I heard a quiet whisper of some sort, a gentle hiss, and without a sound, I saw her nightshirt flutter forward past me, landing in a nice little pile on the floor. I could only stare at it, my heart pounding at the implications.

"Do you remember what you told me the last time I asked you to stay with me?" she whispered into my ear, once more wrapping her taut slender arms around me. I knew exactly what I had said back then. And down deep, secretly, I had regretted doing to.

"I had told you that it would be wrong to pursue such a relationship at that time. Due to our old scores to settle and the like."

"And what about now?"

"Hard to say," I answered lightly, reflecting on the subject, "The world is coming to pieces because of the Bhaalspawn, bounty-hunters are after my skin…again, and I am causing havoc and destruction wherever I go. So not much has changed really. But at least I have my soul now…what's left of it…"

"It is intact," she insisted, "It is just in need of healing. Let me help…"

I half turned my head to look back at her. "In my experience," I said with a mirthful tone, "It's usually the _men_ who begin this exchange, isn't it?"

"It seems that you don't know the order of Nature as well as I." She tugged at my shoulder's, pulling me down with her. I didn't resist…

--

--

--

I _still_ couldn't sleep. We had both worn ourselves out, but I continued to find myself awake. I suppose I didn't _want_ to sleep. Out of fear. But not because of my vivid dreams of murder, courtesy of Bhaal. And not because of my worries due to eventually facing down Yaga-Shura.

No, I was afraid that if I slept, I would awaken to find the whole night with Jaheira and I had spent together…All of it was only a dream. A wondrous dream that made the troubles of the world around us melt into obscurity. Seeming somehow less important. The feeling…I vaguely knew it. Back when I was an innocent child at Candlekeep, unburdened by the evil taint inside, I had felt it every day. Happiness.

I laid my head against her chest, nuzzling in close, like a newborn child cuddling his mother. I could hear her steady heartbeat, feeling the rise and fall of her as she breathed. Somehow, those sounds were relaxing. I felt calmness roll throughout me and I couldn't help but smile.

--

--

--

"Awake?" I lifted my head and glanced behind. I was sitting at the foot of the bed, legs crossed, trying to meditate. I'd seen it done before, and I've heard it helps relax you. All it seemed to do for me was make my legs fall asleep. At least _they_ could sleep…She was awake too, lying on her pillow watching me, her hair fanned out.

"I never really went to sleep…"

She sat up, hugging the sheets to her naked body, eyes tensing slightly. "Yaga-Shura?" she asked quietly. I turned my head around, giving her a rueful grin.

"I wasn't talking about Yaga-Shura…" She seemed to recoil in surprise, letting it sink in. Then she gave me a devious smile of her own, before she tossed the pillow at my head.

"Even in the morning you are still an ass," she told me, before standing. I couldn't help but stare.


	29. Here's The Heart

**Chapter 29: **Here's the Heart

"We should be in good shape," my optimism was at a high point, "They've been probably running around looking for us for the past two days. And scared witless after my little massacre."

"Yes and undoubtedly reinforcing their position with more forces, traps, and any means at their disposal to halt our advance." I glared back at my hulking brother, his face his usual continence of nothingness as he delivered his devil's advocate speech to burst my bubble.

"Dream-wrecker…" I pouted at him.

"In any event," Keldorn finished buckling his lustrous armor into place, "We have tarried here long enough. We have an urgent mission to complete, and we must return to it with all haste."

After returning, I insisted we take another day off, just to ensure Jaheira had recovered fully from her injuries. No one objected, but they were anxious. I found out why, as unfortunately, there really wasn't a whole lot to do in my pocket plane in terms of entertainment and keeping one busy. I think I saw Yoshimo playing a game of chess with Cespenar. Minsc no doubt found ways to pass the time with Boo, though doing what…I don't really want to know…

I cannot say anything for Sarevok or Keldorn, both of them probably liking the empty quiet and stillness as opposed to all the rushing around and hurrying, but I myself was anything but bored. I had suffered a great scare in Jaheira's wounds, and I felt compelled to stay with her. And we certainly found ways to keep busy.

We had spent those two days in each other's company, engaging in…well, shall we say relaxing physical therapy sessions. You know…to help speed her recovery along…and such…

In that time spent in each other's arms, I had made her make a solemn promise that she would be extra careful in the future battles, and in dangerous times, she would not over do things. Likewise, she made me make a promise that I would try my hardest to hold back the rising flood of murder within. I agreed, though really, she didn't exactly have to twist my arm to get my accord.

In combination with Cespenar's treatments and her own healing, Jaheira was at full health after the two days, and she was the one who was adamant that we continue. I could have used another day of rest and relaxation but…well, duty called I guess. So a quick call to my friends and we once more stood assembled by the exit portal.

Jaheira was wearing the new armor Cespenar had made for her. It was a gleaming wrought iron, perhaps some mithril or some other silver metal mingled in. It looked far stronger and durable than the simple plate, laced with a hearty aura of magic. And…well, she just looked so good wearing it.

As we entered the portal, once more feeling the world around us return, the blasting furnace heat engulfed us in welcome, as if delivering a greeting fit only for a dragon. We arrived in the same place we had departed, the entrance foyer, near the huge pit of fire. The piles of corpses and such were just as we had left it, as no fly could live to get inside the temple to conjugate. Obviously the fire giants hadn't bothered to clean up for our return. How rude…

"We'd best find these hearts quickly," Minsc instructed, giving his head a shake to dispel the all enshrouding torridity, "Boo has no tolerance for this sort of heat, what with his ample fur coat."

"Him and everyone else," I told him, wiping my brow, hoping to smear some dripping sweat across my face. Any amount of moisture would have been welcome, but I may as well have been trying to wring water from sand. But we couldn't let that stop us. So we plunged on.

Despite our optimism, things turned out to be one dire frustration after another. The layout of the temple was maddening, and not just because of the overbearing heat. It had been constructed to the standards of giants, not normal sized folk, thus the stairs and walkways were grossly oversized, forcing us to heave ourselves, armor and weapons included, over the lip of each stair. It was taxing to keep doing that, all the while enduring a heat that probably could have made a fire elemental sweat.

And as bad as climbing the stairs was, that was nothing in contrast to the constant attacks. As Sarevok had said in our absence the defenders had ample time to prepare a defense against us, rallying their forces. Fire giant guards, several of them, hiding behind the massive arches, lying in wait to leap out at us whilst we tried to climb higher, pushing us back down. We all sustained injury in those battles, but Jaheira was ready to assist, as she always does.

On top of the attacks, we encountered several cunning traps on several stairs leading up, which I stupidly sprung in my haste. My rewards were a lightning bolt which near made a smoking hole through my chest, and an arrow laced with acid drilling right into my stomach. Jaheira kept reprimanding me to move with caution but I was probably too stubborn to listen. Disarming traps made me think of Imoen, and that always made me depressed.

However, a small piece of good news was that thanks to my little exhibition of brutality, not only were they extremely wary of us, but their numbers had dwindled, forcing them pick and choose their battles prudently, as to not squander their numbers again. But with each victory we won, my confidence grew. That was one or two or three less giants to contend with in the future.

After all of our struggling, at the end of the temple there was an almost nerve-wracking set of stairs that led up high into the mountain. The arches over the stairwell was adorned with gold trim and paintings, maintaining themselves despite the heat. Obviously the way forward, and obviously obstructed. I began to climb the stairs, an agonizing chore once again, but no sooner had I cleared the third step I felt as if invisible hands had grasped my body and flung be back down to the bottom.

I landed unceremoniously on my back, knocking all air from my lungs, leaving me wheezing. It was very undignified for a Bhaalspawn. Yoshimo volunteered to step up and examine it, but he too was ejected in quick similar fashion.

"A mystical barrier to repel intruders," Keldorn concluded, "Undoubtedly there must be some manner of trick to passing. And more than likely, as such a bastion defends this entrance, what we seek lies beyond. The temple's inner sanctum, where Yaga-Shura keeps his treasured hearts."

"Ah Boo, you are certainly correct," Minsc was booming across the room. We turned to see him standing before a squat mechanism, which was belching steam and making a low grumbling whir. He waved us over. "Boo has determined that cause of the magical barrier is this appliance! He suggests we learn to operate it so we might proceed!"

"Do we now take orders from a rodent brother?" Sarevok asked me with devious skepticism.

"Well," I went to join Minsc, "since Boo was the one to find that thing, than maybe we should. I mean, I didn't exactly hear any suggestions from you." He snorted but followed.

It was no ordinary device, that was sure. It had tubes of copper running up and down, several of them disappearing into the floor, and others venting steam. It hummed with magic and some other unseen power, and is had several slots indented into the sides. It sat upon a grate, stationed over another pit of molten lava, and was extremely hot to the touch.

"Hmm," I mused, scrutinizing the droning device; "This is kind of vexing. Anyone want to give me a hint?"

"Four impressions," Jaheira noted, stepping beside me, examining the foreign contraption that no doubt held back our advance, "Each with a different symbol. I assume we must find four items that shall fit into these slots to lower the magic shield."

"I seem to remember there were two knobs at the entrance," Yoshimo offered, "Perhaps they are the key for dispelling this barrier. Though I also seem to recall them being quite high off the ground, more of the reach of the inhabitance of this temple then ourselves."

"Let's head back then," I instructed, "I'm not about to leave now just because I'm too short."

He hadn't been kidding; there were two shimmering orbs set in the walls, one in each room that had been adjacent to the entrance hall, roughly twenty spans off the ground. No human, not even Sarevok with his towering massiveness could reach it.

"Marvelous," Sarevok grunted, staring up, "Must we now balance upon ones shoulders to move forward?" The thought of creating a human totem to reach that switch wasn't appealing to me either, what with the intolerable heat sapping us of strength. I reached my hand upwards, and made a feeble jump, hoping to make contact somehow. A rather pitiful gesture true, but the results it yielded were quite surprising.

I felt my feet leave the floor in that moment, and I watched, half stupefied as the knob seemed to lower to meet me. My eyes flicked downward, back to my feet to see the ground easily ten spans below, rather than two or three spans. My arc took me up, but I was too startled to push on the switch. I landed, glancing amongst my comrades, and with a hesitating push, I rose high again. This time, as I passed the button or what have you, I laid my hand on it, pressing in.

In a place that built into the side of a volcano, one would imagine that everything around would be hot, including the lofty button. So when I pushed on it, I felt the sensation of burning skin, as well as a scalding hiss complete with steam. Regardless, I felt the button depress inward, and there was an echoing hiss from somewhere. I landed softly again, greeted by bewildered stares.

"Astounding, my friend. How were you able to do that?" Yoshimo stared at me dumbfounded, "To leap such as that?" Though honestly, I wasn't really sure myself.

"Didn't I…do that before?" I asked him, "You know…when I was…you know…"

"Indeed, but…well I merely assumed it had something to do with your state."

"You were jumping so high Delic," Minsc was gushing as he dashed up and started slapping me heartily on the back, "Like Boo when he is very nervous or excited when he enters the fray of battle. You sure you don't have a little hamster in you?"

"Another trait of the Bhaal taint perhaps?" Sarevok proposed, looking knowingly at me. I didn't think very hard, as I've been gaining traits lately that were far from human.

"I guess that's what it must be. The only unaccounted for one is Illasera. I guess that answers that."

"Illasera?" Jaheira thought aloud, "Who is that?" I noticed Sarevok half-turned my way, most likely interested to hear my answer as well.

"She _was_ some crazy huntress or something; she was stalking after me, to track me down and I confronted her in the ancient forests of the elves. Really, just another Bhaalspawn who thought she was so terrible. I showed her otherwise."

"And now," Sarevok pointed out, "you possess an additional power that grants you yet another advantage over our siblings."

"Great," I grumbled at him, "Illasera's power has turned me into a giant jackrabbit. Am I supposed to be thrilled by this?"

He smirked a dark smile, but said no more.

"Still," I went on, "I may be crazy, but I have a hunch that Illasera was one of the Five. If so, than that makes Yaga-Shura number two, and once I've sorted him out, only three to go"

"If we still have that much left to do," Keldorn was already returning to the main chamber, "then I suggest we be on our way.

Once again, I tested my new vaulting ability in the other room, pushing on the second orb, and causing me to burn my other hand, but nonetheless we could hear another whooshing of magic from elsewhere in the temple. Jaheira tended to my scalded hands as we went searching for anything that might have changed. Not a hard task. Two doorways were now open, that had previously been hidden behind clouds of burning vapor so thick, it was like fog. Inside was another sizable chamber and more fire. But my burnt hands were not for naught.

In the center of the room, there was a moat of boiling fire, the heat radiating off of it was blistering my skin even as I stood twenty spans away. In the dead center of that pool was a small island, a golden box sitting atop the tiny speck of rock, bobbing amidst the waves of fire.

"So…?" Minsc asked both Boo and us, "Now what?"

An excellent question, as stepping on to a lake of fire was most certainly not good for ones health. Building a makeshift bridge would be useless, as would rope, it would burn away in mere moments. Then, a radical idea came to me, though I had a hunch it would give Jaheira and everyone else a heartattack.

"I'll check it out," I said, and stepped to the edge. Before anyone could object to my perhaps foolhardy idea, I leaped.

"Dietrich!" I heard Jaheira yell after me, but I was already airborne and descending.

My vaulting jump carrying me out into the middle of the bubbling lake, only to come crashing down on top of the golden…whatever it was. I had to grasp on to it, perching myself on top of the thing like some grotesque bird, teetering back and forth, a few hairs away from oblivion. I summoned all of my dexterity to keep still, and once my equilibrium was restored, I was able to examine the container. How something of gold survived in the center of that fire lake escaped me, but with a shove, the top popped off.

Inside were several stones, gems of fine quality. My life as an adventurer has made me quite proficient in the art of appraising items, and it was clear that they weren't merely ornamental. But beneath them was something else, a rounded stone, made of some sort of lustrous dark rock, and grasping it, I felt etchings in it.

"I think I've got something!" I yelled, hoisting my discovery upward to display. And just like that, I caused another battle.

In a swirl of magical fire from where my group stood, several beasts appeared, no doubt guardians summoned to protect the stone I had just procured. To suit the theme of flame and other hot things around us, two fire elementals, two giant four legged hell hounds, three crimson colored trolls, and a hovering skull wreathed in flames, grinning at us with its agape toothy grin, burst forth from nowhere, and rushed against us.

They fell upon my group in seconds, and the burning skull came bobbing over the fire pool to dive at me with its undead enthusiasm on its bony countenance. I would have taught that thing a few painful lessons, but I was barely holding my balance, let alone having enough concentration to repel a swooping enemy. So as it crashed into my back, causing my cloak to catch fire, I ignored it, tucking the stone into a small pouch on my belt, and got the hell off that thing. I sprung, landing back on good old solid land, and had enough time to leisurely draw my katana, and split that obnoxious skull right down the center as it came diving again, the pieces fell to the ground, bouncing into the lava.

We all sustained burns and scorch marks naturally, and Minsc and Yoshimo had long thin slash wounds down their arms, from the thin groping fingers of the trolls, whilst I took a sore jaw as I was promptly socked clear in the face by Jaheira once the battle ended.

"You mad imbecile! What an idiotic idea! What if you had missed? Or slipped?" I could only grin, wincing at the growing bruise.

"Well it probably wouldn't have been good, but since I didn't, no sense in worrying…right?" She shook her head, grasping my arm, holding on to me for comfort. More than likely she was asking herself why I was such a damndable idiot a lot of the time.

With the guards all dead, I was able to examine the stone I had uncovered. It was as smooth as an egg, a bit larger than my own fist, and chiseled into the side was the unmistakable image of a large warhammer.

"Four stones," said I, hefting the rock and turned it over, "And four slots. I guess this is one down."

And three to go yes, a chore of near nauseating proportions. In the adjacent room there was another golden box sitting in lava, and it took three minutes of logical persuasion to make Jaheira let go of my cloak. I hopped out there, and the moment I retrieved a sister stone to the one we already had, we faced a similar horde of protector and another slaughter ensued. Giant constructs made of bone gated in with a swirl of magic, more fire minions, giants who came sneaking out through a secret door, and other bizarre yet equally frustrating opponents. We were all getting tired, but we did not cease until we were the only ones left standing.

And in the end, we found them all. Hammer, Skull, Blood, and Flame. And when each stone was placed in its designated slot on the mysterious device, the machine gave a rumble, and ceased its humming. We waited, seeing if there was something else, some arching bolt of magic that would strike the barrier and dispel it, but nothing further happened. So I gingerly climbed back up the stairs, hoping not to be thrown again. To my relief, I wasn't, but much to my exasperation, at the top of the stairs were two more fire giants waiting for us.

And since I was unburden by armor, my stair climbing speed was the quickest, and I had made it up first, all by myself. And my haste nearly got me stepped on. Caught off guard, I was knocked to the floor by a stout blow, forcing me to drive my silver sword up to gouge the giant's massive booted foot with the tip of my blade as it descended to squash me flat. He yowled in pain, clutching his bleeding foot, as his partner then stepped up and was about to crush my head in when Sarevok came erupting from the stairs, bellowing and heaving his sword to and fro. Before long, the giants were dead, and we were assembled again.

"Wow," I commented, looking straight up, "That is one…big door." And yes, my talent for stating plain and evident facts was spot on, for the two giants had been standing on the sides of a towering crimson red door, easily forty spans height, blocking our way. Burned into the door was a very familiar symbol, a grinning skull, surrounded by teardrops. Or blood drops as some prefer. The seal of my sire, Bhaal.

"Should we knock do you suppose?" Yoshimo suggested.

"And bring our enemies right to us?" Sarevok didn't look his way, but he had a note of irritation that crept out along with the words.

"A joke my friend, of course. But eh…I am at a bit of a loss on how to…well open it."

That was no laughing matter, Minsc, Sarevok, and myself had to lunge against it, our boots getting very little traction on the mosaic tile floor. But bit by bit, span by span, we pushed the great door open enough to get inside.

Truly, I haven't ever been inside a room as large as that in my life. Honestly, I couldn't see from one end of it to the other, it was lost over the horizon. A well-built castle could have fit in there leisurely. Though despite the halls grandiose size, it was built in the same architecture style as the rest of the temple, pillars of gold-like color, metal gratings with steam, and pools of fire. And besides the pools, there were now long thin canals of flames too, dug into the floor, crisscrossing like webbing throughout the whole room. And they all seemed to be leading to a single spot.

It was a brazier, and quite a large one too, mired in the center of a sea of blaze. It was lit, the flames reached up towards the ceiling, the roar of fire drowning out even the persistent rushing of hissing steam. And deep within that hellfire was a large dark shape, pulsating.

Blocking the way though was an absolutely mammoth fire giant, who stood before the blazing inferno, lifting a dark gleaming hammer high as he turned to face us.

_"Interlopers!"_ the massive giant screamed in rage, "They've come to rob our lord and master of his heart! We shall never allow the fire of almighty Yaga-Shura to be put out! To arms my brothers!"

"Your master is _no_ god!" Keldorn thundered back, his stalwart voice ringing throughout the entire chamber, his sword lifting to catch the harrowing light "And we shall see his wretched enchantment undone and his crimes against all answered for!"


	30. Immortal No More

**Chapter 30: **Immortal No More

Despite Keldorn's fierce words, the consequent and inevitable battle that followed was no picnic. In addition to the head giant, no small task in his own right, but several more fire giants came rushing to his call, as well as more fire elementals and hell hounds.

I charged the chief giant personally, my silver sword cutting the air with a resounding whistle, intending to slice his legs from his body. What I wasn't expecting though was for him to instead stampede towards me with a vibrant roar, intending to bludgeon me with his great hammer; he instead began to chant in a booming voice, waving his hands about, which alerted me to spells. And in a saving ditch, I dove forward, skidding across the tiles, just as a blast of magic went sweeping over my head. Whatever ill-effects it may have had on me were avoided narrowly, making me curse wizards all over again, even as I picked myself up from the scalding floor.

Sarevok was surrounded by the pack of dark hounds, they leaping through the air, their gleaming demonic fangs seeking for a vulnerable opening in his armored plates, dodging as he swung to hack their limbs and heads away. Minsc and Keldorn were holding off a giant each, trying their best to avoid direct hits, and maim the legs of their attackers at the same time. Jaheira was keeping the fire elementals distracted, swinging at them with her staff, whilst Yoshimo was dashing back and forth amongst them, his swords dragging across the smoldering ember-like bodies of the elementals, their airy shrieks of fury resonating all around us.

With the knowledge that I was facing a giant with spells now in hand, I resumed my charge.

I leapt with the propelled force from my enhanced jump, arcing up and coming down on the unsuspecting giant. Though not quite so unsuspecting as it turned out. He had been casting a spell, but my unexpected leap obviously caught him unaware, as he paused in his casting, disrupting his spell. As I came hurtling down like a bolt of lightning, he lifted his arm, to shield his head from my incoming strike. My sword sliced deep into his forearm, but not as deep as I would have liked. His other arm came around before I could pull my blade free and he managed to snag my leg, and before I knew it he had me dangling upside-down.

I kicked and wormed, steeling myself against the strong sense of disorientation. With me in hand, he turned and took several steps, approaching one of the pools of fire, and I saw with dismay that he meant to give me a lava bath. I began flailing my arms, my sword swishing back and forth and I managed to hack clean through one of his fingers holding me, it being bigger than a good sized sausage. He bellowed at that, clutching his bleeding stump, his hold on me loosened, letting me tumble the twelve spans to the hard floor.

I sprawled right on the edge of the lake of bubbling heat, the hem of my cloak dipping in for a second before it melted. I staggered up to my feet, stepping away, looking back up at the enraged giant. His hands, one only having four fingers now were reaching towards me, most likely intending to grab me again and crush me to paste. A moment before they clasped me, I leapt right out of his grasp.

I landed in the tangled matted forest of his hair, almost overpowered by the unwashed stink of it. Fire giants do not have a liking of water and immersing themselves in it. I turned my sword over and drove its point straight down into the massive head beneath me. I felt his entire body spasm, the only sounds he made we harsh gasping, his face no doubt gaping with a blank stare.

But regardless, one of his hands still found its way up to where I crouched and clocked me on the side, knocking me from my perch. It was my luck that my killing blow had robbed him of his full strength, for taking a direct hit like that without armor, well, suffice to say I'd look quite at home in a jam jar. I tumbled to the ground, landing on my stomach, watching as my towering foe stood a moment long before his iron hammer fell with a ringing crash and he simply crumpled over without another sound, falling into a small brazier nearby, spilling its oil and fire all over the floor.

I had to regain my breath before I could start to push myself up, taking in the sights. It seemed that the battle was winding down. The only ones left standing were my group, though our victory was hardly a simple matter.

Keldorn was holding his right arm, as it looked to be dislocated or perhaps broken. Despite the obvious pain, he merely grin and bore it, like a true paladin, as Jaheira took a look. Minsc's breastplate looked to have been worked over by an amateur smithy, dented and bent all over. But Minsc was his usual excited self, paying the damage no nevermind.

"What a glorious battle! Everyone here fought with great strength and there was a thorough amount of butt-kicking here this day! Oh Boo is so thrilled to be part of this adventure!"

Sarevok's dark armor had streaks of red trailing down the front and sides, and I could see teeth marks on his face and the exposed parts of his arms and legs.

"That's a lot of bite marks," I commented, looking along his arms. He was bleeding heavily, no doubt in a large amount of pain, but he didn't advertise it. I suppose in all of his years previous, he was taught to never openly show his pain and weaknesses, and it was something he still carried with him. Nor did they seem to bother him either. He looked as though he was ready to push on, even though his blood was oozing all over the floor. I nodded at Jaheira, then towards Sarevok, knowing that she disliked the thought of having to heal him. And indeed, her face scrunched up tight, but she bit her lip and went about tending to his wounds without a word. Sarevok was likewise silent.

"And you my love?" Jaheira asked me when she was finished, looking me over, "Are you injured?" I rolled my shoulders about, twisting my torso, feeling for anything that had been knocked out of place due to the excessive falling I had been doing. I felt sore, no question, bruises lining up and down my body, but a Bhaalspawn like me doesn't let a little things like bruises stop him. A severed leg or a long spear through the abdomen maybe, but not bruises.

"I'm alright. But…" I glanced about, "Where's…?" Then I spied my blade, still sticking out of the giant leader's skull. I had lost my grip on it when I had been knocked to the floor. I had to do some hard tugging to get it free, but it came out as sharp as always and covered with a gray jelly that made my stomach do a nervous jig. Replaced in my sheath, I and the uninjured turned towards the monolithic brazier that we had almost literally fought through Hell to find.

In the following sullen silence of the gargantuan chamber, we could only hear the steady heavy drum beat of the monolithic heart, slowly pulsating in its towering inferno.

"Now _that_ is a heart," Minsc cried out, leaning out to inspect the huge beating organ, Boo resting on his shoulder, no doubt sniffing, "Never would I thought it possible to have a heart beating outside of someone. And on fire too! It makes my head spin to think of such great power to do such a thing! Even Boo is sent reeling at the thought!"

"Indeed it is," Yoshimo concurred, "The heart of a titan. But…uh…how exactly do we get it out of there?" After all of the toils and near-death challenges we had faced so far, retrieving the heart itself turned out to be exceedingly simple. With the help of my ultra-cutting sword, I was able to pull the leather belt of the giant leader off, and we used it as a rope. The buckle looped around the edge of the brazier, and with a hard tug the whole thing went sprawling over, the mountain of flames winking out at once. The heart thankfully flew past the moat of lava around it, making it accessible.

It landed on the tiles with revolting echoing thud, as it went rolling across the floor with a grotesque squishing sound, coming to a stop. It merely lay there, pulsating, the smell of burning flesh pouring off of it anew with each beat. Though I found it disgusting, I found it even more fascinating still; as I knew the magic to perform such a feat must have been ancient and immense. I lay my hand upon it, just to confirm to myself that it was indeed a real heart and not some makeshift golem facsimile. I could feel the soft flesh of it, but I was more preoccupied by the agonizing heat that was searing my hand, making me draw back with a jump.

"Whoa!" I shouted, shaking my hand, "That thing's scorching."

"Well of course it is you silly man," Jaheira took my hand, and started to treat it, "It was on fire less than a moment ago."

"Oh," I felt like beating my head against a wall at my own stupidity, "Right. So…who wants to…you know…carry it?" There wasn't a swarm of volunteers as I had hoped; each person had the same look as they stared down at it, somewhat disgusted and dismayed.

"The Bag of Holding maybe?" Keldorn offered. I wrinkled my nose at the thought.

"I'm kind of hesitant to put that smelly repulsive thing in there…but we can't just carry it around on our backs…unless…" I looked over at Sarevok, who was staring off into the room, admiring the decor or something. He must have known what was crossing through my mind for his voice rang out, the same mellow depth as the thumping heart.

"The bag will be sufficient…" So with careful prodding and nudging, we rolled the mammoth organ into my abyssal bag, the thing vanishing inside the meager vessel like it had been a marble or a copper.

"Well," Yoshimo wore a small grin, glancing around, "This has certainly been a…interesting adventure, but I feel that I must recommend that we leave this place quite soon. Apart from the stifling heat, I will feel much safer knowing more giants are not right around the bend."

"Not yet," Jaheira told him, "There is one other heart we must find. The old witch's, for without it she cannot undo the magic's that keep Yaga-Shura safe from harm."

After a brisk and long trek across the daunting chamber, we found another door, similar to the entryway. A large blood red door of great monolithic size, once more adorned with my father's chilling crest. And once more, Minsc, Sarevok, and I had to lunge against it, heaving to throw the door ajar. Inside before us was a strewn about pile of hay, sitting atop of it was a woman.

She was wearing tattered rags, barely covering her multiple voluptuous curves, and she was filthy from top to bottom. From the look of her dark skin, she was from a different part of the world. Around her neck was an iron collar, a thick steel band digging into her throat, with heavy chains holding it, attached to a large wooden post next to the haypile. She was up at once, looking us over, though her expression wasn't exactly relief. More like irritation.

"You there," she called, pointing straight at me, "Get over here and release me at once!"

"Quite a way to ask for a favor, yes?" Yoshimo grinned at her, "Demanding release with no questions asked?"

"What would you prefer fool?" she growled at him with a slit glare, "That I ask you for your life story? I care not who you are, so long as you release me!"

"Very well," I agreed, stepping forward, though I was a little put out by her demanding nature, "We shall." I had no key for the chains; at least, I had no key that fit the lock. What I did have was my universal door and lock opener, my githyanki vorpal sword. A simple stroke and the chains were hewn from her collar. With careful precision that comes with long years of practice, her collar was removed as well. Once it fell away, she rubbed her now unfettered neck, it being a sore and blistered red.

"Free from this place at last," she breathed to herself, "No more must I endure the stink of this rotten pit. And you," she faced me with a dark glare, "I suppose I am in your debt now…Well, I will not be held down by any man…However, since you are not of Yaga-Shura's fanatical following, you must be against him. To repay my debt, I'll tell what I know of him."

"Fair enough. Though first, exactly who are you and why were you chained in here?" Her reaction to this question was far from what I expected. She calmly stepped forward and seized me by the collar, yanking me forward. She looked malnourished somewhat, but she still had plenty of strength.

"I would normally gut any man who dared asked such questions of me…" she paused, glancing over my shoulder to my loyal and well-armed group, watching the situation. She sneered at them but let me down, "But since I am outnumbered and unarmed, I shall answer. My name is Ehlastra, a proud warrior of the northern lands. I had heard of rumors of a Child of Bhaal born unto the giant's heritage, and I wished to see if such tales were indeed true."

"You were merely curious?" Keldorn asked her skeptically, "Nothing more than that?"

"Of course there was more than that! I came here to pledge my service to the mighty Yaga-Shura, to join his ranks and take pride and delight as he ravaged the southlands. That thought of being part of his army, to revel in carnage and to feel gore splash against my face was too alluring to pass up, as well as a lord who was impossible to defeat. Victory was all but assured."

"And you became his pleasure slave instead?" Jaheira asked, a hint of irony and mild amusement embedded in her voice, "A fitting punishment for one who wished to cause such pain and suffering."

"Watch your tongue harlot! My people differ from yours as do our ways. It was my misfortune that while these giants were mighty and war-like, they lacked any base intelligence. When they looked upon me, the recognized my talents with a blade, but instead of seeing me as a warrior, they saw me as a potential mate for Yaga-Shura, so that the taint of Bhaal may be spread even further."

"How's that going, by the way?" I inquired. Her frosted gaze was enough to get me to switch topics. "Well, now that we know that, I have really only one question I'd like to ask. You look to have been here for quite some time. I don't suppose you know of any way that Yaga-Shura's invulnerability may be…well, overcome?"

"Yaga-Shura was not so stupid as to share his most precious secrets with me or anyone. But yes, I have been here for several months, and I have heard small parts of conversations, so I know some. First, someone from Yaga-Shura's past…an old crone named Nyalee, who lived in the forests west of here."

"Yes, we already met her…She wanted us to come here and steal Yaga-Shura's heart as well as her own."

"Then all I can suggest is to search Yaga-Shura's bed…he has a golden chest hidden under it which he is obsessed over." She pointed down the length of the great room. I followed her gaze, and then bowed.

"My thanks, that was all we needed. Consider your debt to me repaid." She nodded, her face still sour and started to hobble forward. Though as she past me, she grasped my arm.

"I shall return to my home in the northlands, but if tales of this humiliation _ever_ reach my ears, I shall spend the remainder of my life hunting you down and carve out your stomach." She released me, and headed for the exit.

"You're welcome," I called after her. "Yikes," I remained hushed, watching her limp away, "Not exactly polite is she?"

"An understandable mood for one who had suffered such indignities," Jaheira stood beside me, watching as well, "Though nothing less than what she deserved for such desires of barbarism."

"In any case," Keldorn pointed further down the room, "She has given us information tied to our final goal here. We should put it to good use." Which we did, investigating a little was down the chamber, we came across a deep alcove in the wall, which a huge block of what looked to be a rosy colored marble dominated.

"That's a _bed_?" I asked bewildered, staring up at it, "It's a slab…who could possibly find _that_ thing comfortable?" Whilst I was gaping, Yoshimo was creeping around it, searching above and below.

"A careful fellow," he commented, "though placing traps around ones bed is a bit paranoid."

"And he has plenty to be paranoid of," Sarevok told him as he past, "Those who seek to rob him of his prize…As we are doing now."

"I suppose that is a valid point my large friend."

"I believe I have it," Keldorn called from the foot of the bed. We all gathered, finding a large chest, almost like a trunk covered in golden plates, adorned with gems of luxury. Yoshimo had no problems jimmying the lock and inside, apart from a treasure of coins and gems, was a gleaming two-handed sword of odd make, and another small box of fine wood. Cracking that open revealed another beating heart, this one the size of a fist.

"Then old wench's heart," Sarevok rumbled, staring down at it, "Let us hope the hag is able to undo the enchantments with this." I was certainly happy to see the second heart, but the swordsman in me was more drawn to the foreign sword, having never seen its like before. I lifted it, hefted it, gave it a swing, and took in a feel of the magical aura around it. I had no clue as to what powers it held, but into my bag it went, as I would be anxious to find out.

"I found this as well," and Keldorn held up a heavy bound book that was perhaps the biggest tome I had ever seen in my life. "A journal of Yaga-Shura…" Keldorn flipped the enormous pages, "Written logs…accounts of his days past…It might prove useful to examine this further."

"Agreed. But let's save that for later…"

Even as I was speaking, at the foot of the great bed there was a roar as a column of flames began to gather with vibrant zeal, dancing and revolving. When it died down, a towering fire elemental stood there, flanked by two smaller of its kind.

_"Who summons Imix, the Prince of Fire?"_ it bellowed in a cruel jarring scream, before heaving a flaming halberd into the air and surging forward in an enveloping charge.

I reacted instantly, rolling out of the way of the all-encompassing assault. I regained my feet in a flash, dragging the singing tip of the Celestial Fury across what could only be called the elemental's back. Along with the shower of sparks, there was a howl, as the burning halberd came wheeling back around, aiming for my scalp. I lifted my blade, batting the savage-looking cleaver away and ducking underneath, moving in close to thrust my sword upward. The stab was strong, but the hard brimstone body of the elemental was not to be damaged so easily, turning my blade aside.

In retaliation, the burning body of Imix flared outward into my face, the illumination searing my eyes, and I had to stagger away, trying to regain my bearings. In actuality it wasn't that hard. I could feel the extreme heat from the elemental prince's body, as well as hear the roaring of the flames. I had to guess exactly where he was swinging his weapon, so I danced back and forth, hoping to keep out of his range, and I suppose it must have worked, because nothing hit me.

And my retaliation to his retaliation was to unsheathe my vorpal blade once more and swing in his general direction. I connected, and Imix certainly didn't like that, howling in pain. I merely kept slicing as my eyesight slowly returned, as I was pleasantly greeted by the sight of his corpse when I could see again.

As the fire prince fell, we were all gasping for air, hot and stale though it was. The other elementals were also vanquished, and we were by ourselves. "Alright," I was panting, "I've had _enough_! This place is a certifiable nightmare! We have the damn hearts; let's get the hell out of here!"

Not surprisingly, no one objected. We limped and stumbled our way back out of the temple, passing the carnage strewn about as we did, and emerged back onto the mountain path. And even then, the air felt crisp and cool when compared to what we had endured for two days. We pushed on as long as we could, all of us being worn down to the wick. Finally, as we reached the foothills to the Marching Mountains, we paused, too exhausted to keep walking. What followed was a welcome unconsciousness almost, as we all zoned out, trying to recover all the energy that had been torn from us.

Trekking back through the forest was a privileged luxury, the dampness of the cool moisture seeping into our cracked and blistered skin, the light breeze ruffling our hair…it was invigorating. Even as we approached the ancient temple, as the forest around us seemed to die the closer we got, it was still a welcome change.

Once more we climbed the decaying stairs of the ruined temple, catching sight of the burning emerald blaze, and the frail form of the witch of the glade kneeling before it. We hadn't even reached the top when she rose, turning towards us, her gray eyes wide and eager.

"Aha," she cried out, tossing her hands up in joy, "Spawn-Child has returned, he has! Come back from fire mountains! Does Spawn-Child have old Nyalee's heart does he? Does he have heart of traitorous boy?" I pulled the wooden box containing her heart out, set it down and heaved out the enormous heart of the giant, plopping it on the cobblestones. The old woman's eyes lit up, as she crouched, running her hands back and forth across the monolithic heart.

"Spawn-Child does! Have precious hearts he does! So happy Nyalee is1 Now for revenge on traitorous boy of mine! Give Nyalee the hearts Spawn-Child, and undo the enchantments Nyalee will! Leave Yaga-Shura defenseless, oh yes. Let him be damned curse him…" I presented her the box, and with gentle care she lifted the quivering organ out, holding it in her palms. It is strange indeed, to see one literally holding their own heart in their hands.

With the whisper of some spell, she lifted her heart and began to push it against herself bosom, and as bizarre a sight as it was, her heart began to seep right back into her chest as she pressed on it. In a moment it was gone, and she stood motionless, staring straight ahead. Then, wordlessly she turned to the huge heart next to her, laid a hand upon it, and with an unintelligible chant, we felt a gathering of magic around us, swelling around the glade, and settling upon her. After a few tense moments, Yaga-Shura's heart changed, its previous vibrant red color became a dull deep purple, its heavy beating slowing down a mere fraction.

"It is done," she said quietly, staring down at the darkened heart of her adopted son, "The magic is gone…his heart is cold now…Cold like Nyalee's…" She paused, her eyes staring off into the endlessness of the glade. "Strange…Nyalee can hardly remember what having a heart is like…makes Nyalee remember old times…sad and happy times…Times with the boy…my boy…" She kept staring at the heart, then suddenly, she looked over at us, fear in her eyes.

"You…spawn-child is after my boy, after my Yaga-Shura. You mean him harm…Poor Yaga-Shura can die now…die by powerful spawn-child's hands…no…mustn't let that happen. Nyalee can't let powerful Spawn-Child hurt my precious Yaga-Shura…Must stop him, must protect my boy, my sweet Yaga-Shura…"

And in one tense second, the old witch seemed to swell to an almost terrifying height, rising up and extending her arms, no doubt readying to call upon more of her ancient magic to eradicate us. But it was only for an instant. I had been on my guard the moment I had first laid eyes on her, as something deep down told me that I'd have to be wary of her. When she started babbling about feeling sorry for Yaga-Shura, who only seconds before had been spiting and cursing his name, I was waiting. And so when she was gathering herself up for some devastating attack, I was already moving.

She froze, bony hands raised, her ancient gray eyes wide with shock and fear. For I was only a hair or two away, the Celestial Fury resting right across her throat, both hands gripping the hilt, my own somewhat cold stare boring into her, showing her that she wasn't the only one with piercing eyes.

"What's done is now done," I told her levelly, "You asked me to retrieve both your and Yaga-Shura's heart so that you might have revenge. I have done so. And now that he is vulnerable, I will face him and only if he gives me no choice, then and only then, will I kill him. And you had best accept what you have done. There is no undoing things now. Stand down…"

I didn't really even need to tell her to back off; the moment I acted, the extent of all that she had schemed to put into motion due to her madness, finally began to dawn upon her. I wasn't to be killed so easily she knew, especially not with her level of strength. And since she knew how Yaga-Shura behaved and thought, having raised him for years, she knew that he and I would inevitably cross swords. And seeing what she had done, letting the realization and truth seep into her reacquired heart, the old woman lost that gleaming spark of vitality, growing even more withered and aged before my eyes. She fell to the crumbling stone floor of the temple, trembling all over.

"My poor boy…" she moaned, rocking back and forth on the ground, like a lost child, "My poor Yaga-Shura will be killed by despicable Spawn-Child, he will…What has Nyalee done?" I put my sword away and motioned for everyone to follow. I began to descend the stairs, but paused, looking back.

"Here's a lesson for you as you despair. Revenge never has a happy ending. You had your reasons for seeking it, but now that it is done, you feel worse. Reflect on it."

"Begone from this place, foul one!" she screeched, waving her curled hands like claws, "you have doomed me and my poor boy with you lust for death. Hell take you, murdering spawn-child. For Hell only is where you will find happiness!"


	31. Too Late

**Chapter 31**: Too Late…

"Hell is only where I will find happiness…"

"Do not dwell too deep on that, my love," Jaheira pressed against me, "Unlike many of the Children, you have strived to curb your dark nature away from yourself and your actions. And all the good you have done is proof enough that nothing is certain, that even something born to be destructive and evil can live in peace with happiness."

"There was a time when I knew nothing _but_ happiness. When I _was_ at peace, and the world seemed so gentle. All of that vanished the moment I learned of my heritage…I've been living this life ever since."

"Disappointed on how things are turning out?" I wrapped my arm around her waist, pulling her close to me as we walked.

"Some parts…I wouldn't change a thing." I leaned my head down, placing a kiss on her cheek. "Others…well, I'd rather do without if at all possible. Though I doubt I have much choice in the matter."

"Such is the way of things. Our fates are often filled with unpleasant elements that cannot be bypassed. We merely must ride them out, hoping their conclusion is a happy one."

"I know I am _certainly_ hoping for that…"

As we left the crumbling temple behind us, deep within the forest of Mir, the trees and wildlife began to return to life. Whatever evil lay within that temple had been strong enough to sap the life of all the living things around it. Eventually we found our way back to the area my magic portal had dropped us, in the forest close to Saradush. It was where we came across the lone merchant who was being assailed by Yaga-Shura's goons. We found the wreckage of the caravans, as well as all the bodies of the slain merchants and their killers, dealt with by us. A hard day of hiking and we decided to camp for the evening again, of course away from the scene and smell of the slaughter.

As I sat, staring into the fire, I felt tension in the air around us. We all knew what was coming; by tomorrow we'd return to Saradush, and have to contend with the expansive army and its leader. The grim insinuation that death was waiting could not be brushed aside by all the idle chit-chat in the world. All of us had faced many challenges in our adventuring careers, but this was something different.

Not a dragon who terrorizes a community with sadistic games. Or a marauding band of trolls seeking wealth in pillaging a castle…No, this was a true army, led by a half-god of murder. This was borderline of stepping into the territory of the gods themselves. And during our camp, we didn't speak much, or sleep much for that matter. Three hours later, we were all up, staring at the fire Sarevok had graciously kept going. Without a word, we began to pack up our things, and break camp. The tension was thick indeed.

And I wasn't the only feeling this, as not long after we started off, Minsc broke the gloomy silence.

"Minsc is very relieved that all that heart business is over. Gods, strange magic, and terrible beasts, it's enough to make even Boo's furry little head spin! But Boo wonders, where does Minsc and Boo fit into this adventure next to such things?" I took a few quick steps to catch up with him. He didn't look unhappy or lost, but perplexed, a rarity for him. Usually Minsc was gung-ho about everything, so much so that he would holler and shout in enthusiasm.

"Don't doubt yourself Minsc," I told him, whapping him on the arm, "You and Boo may not be god-spawn, but you two are the avatars of butt-kicking. And unless we enter the heavens themselves in our quest, there will always be villains for you to clobber and beat up. There is no mortal force that can resist your virtuous villain stomping." Minsc pondered this, gently petting Boo behind the ears as he puzzled. Finally, his face broke out into a huge grin, and he walloped me on the back, which kinda hurt.

"Doric is absolutely right! Of this Boo has no doubt! Wherever evil sticks its giant ill-smelling foot, wherever villains rear their big ugly heads with warty noses, Minsc and Boo will be there to dispense righteous butt-kicking for all! Come, there are many evil-doers that have yet to feel the bite of my sword and boot! Onward!" And with an exuberant shout, Minsc went stampeding down the road, rushing ahead.

"You never help matters by getting him so wound up, you know," Jaheira told me, as she watched our ranger dash onward down the path in his frenzy, "He merely creates another headache we must combat."

"I know…but I can't help it. He is simple but he has his heart in the right place, and if _Minsc_ of all people is troubled, than that can't be good. Besides, I kinda get a kick out of watching him."

"You're a simple minded idiot…" and she gave me a kiss of her own, on my lips, "but I would have you no other way."

"I have been reading this," Sarevok broke in suddenly, as he tends to, motioning to the journal of Yaga-Shura that we had taken, an account of everything that he had been doing, "Our enemy has killed many Bhaalspawn already, and it seems that in addition to the other members of this grouping, there is someone that is giving the orders. Their organization seems to number five, and the one Bhaalspawn you mentioned, Illasera, was indeed one of these five. And you are mentioned quite often as well brother. It seems you are considered a daunting obstacle to them and their goals. Their plans are not detailed here, but from what is written, I am sure it is close at hand."

This didn't surprise me all that much.

"Illasera said as much to me. She was babbling about great plans and their group's aspirations. Which is connected to killing Bhaalspawn…and since there aren't too many left, then I think they're getting a little too close to their goal. Which means once we find a way to deal with Yaga-Shura, then we'd best get to searching for the remaining three, as well as this leader before they get too much further along."

"Minsc and Boo smell something funny in the wind," our ranger announced from his ahead position, "Something that smells much like meat that was cooked for far too long!"

"Look there!" Jaheira pointed, "Smoke plumes." And indeed, from over the hills and trees ahead, there were several black columns of smoke drifting up towards the sky. It didn't look to be that far off, but we began to pick our pace. For we could all smell it, a black cloud hung overhead, it smelling of fire and charred flesh. As the sky began to lighten in the coming of dawn, we crested the last hill, passing from the final cluster of trees, and we saw the origins of the smoke clearly.

It was coming from Saradush.

The city was burning, the towers and buildings were belching smoke, several portions of the wall were collapsed, crumbled into rubble, and the stench of death was fouling the air, even as far as we stood, upwind and uphill from the site.

"Torm save us," Keldorn stood on, his face recoiling at the horror before us. Even as we stood staring, we could still hear some screams in the air, people in terror and agony shrieking, their cries drifting on the wind.

"We're too late," Yoshimo also looked alarmed, "We are too late…"

"This city is razed," Sarevok stated what we all could obviously see. We stood, stunned to motionlessness

"We cannot stay here," Jaheira came back to the present first, and grasped my arm, tugging, "Yaga-Shura's men are undoubtedly still about. We cannot let them find us. We should leave…"

"And do what?" Sarevok asked, looking around, "Wait for Yaga-Shura to hunt us down? Let him rally more forces to his cause and run us aground? We have worked tirelessly to make him vulnerable, and now you wish for us to run in hide? Retreat is not an option. A direct confrontation now is the best course."

"An entire army lies down there," she snapped, "and there are only six of us. What chance do we have to face such odds and emerged alive? It is foolhardy! Unless you wish to return to the cold embrace of death, in which case, go right ahead."

"In a matter such as this, survival is not necessarily the point, at least where we are concerned. So long as Yaga-Shura dies and Dietrich lives, then it matters not the outcome of us. Either way, running will not see Yaga-Shura dead, but it will make him all the harder to kill in the future."

"Boo agrees with Sarevok. Now is not the time to run and hide under large rocks! Great evil is gathered here, and we must do our best to smoosh it goo before it has the chance to spread more wickedness and evil! These bastards will feel the sting on my boot on their backsides and the claws of Boo…even though his claws are sort of small…"

"As much as I desire to avenge the fallen here," Keldorn stared down at the ruined city, his face hard, as if carved from stone, "We have a slight advantage, in that Yaga-Shura doesn't know where we are. If we were to withdraw out of his range, we might strategize a way to face Yaga-Shura on more level terms. A plan would be a prudent course of action."

"No plans are required," Sarevok insisted, and he cast a hand down at the outline of tents and huts in the midst of camp below, "And you shall not find a more opportune moment than this. No doubt his men are still reveling in the thrill of their victory, unready and unsuspecting for an assault. If we strike swiftly, we can get to Yaga-Shura quickly and defeat him. With him gone, his army will come undone."

"Charging an army isn't a wise idea," Keldorn reminded him somberly, "The moment we enter, unprepared or not, we will be overwhelmed in mere moments. And we lack any capabilities of stealth save Yoshimo, and I'm sure even his wiliness wouldn't make up for our own furtiveness shortcomings."

"I must admit to be at a loss myself," Yoshimo crouched from behind the rocks, serving as our lookout, "Attack or flee seems to be our options, both holding risks and advantages. A difficult choice, one I am certainly glad I am not required to make."

The debate continued around me, Jaheira and Keldorn wishing to withdrawn, Sarevok and Minsc to attack head on, and Yoshimo an undecided medium. Once more, I put nothing into the dispute, merely staring off at the city…the city I had been charged with protecting. The city that was now a pile of smoldering wreckage because of me…And because of Yaga-Shura…Yaga-Shura…

My hands clenched and I felt my blood begin to heat, that name sparking a rage deep inside of me. I turned towards the sprawling camp, scanning it. I knew what I needed to do.

"Wait here," was all I said aloud. All arguing ceased at once, as every eye looked around. I loosened my cloak, throwing it behind me; and I tightened my sword belt, looking back at them.

"Where do you think you are going?" Jaheira pressed sharply, an edge in her voice, as no doubt she recognized my grim and determined expression and knew the implications.

"Where? I am going to march down there, find Yaga-Shura, and kill him."

"Why must you always be so rash?!" she all but groaned, "Rushing in with no thought…You are far too reckless with your life!"

"Look," I reasoned, "As Sarevok said, they probably aren't expecting anyone to attack them, so I'll be able to get in with little trouble. And as you said, there's an entire army down there. If we all charge in directly, we'll all be annihilated in short order. If I go myself, I'll have the chance to fight Yaga-Shura one on one. Afterwards, when he is nothing but a corpse on the ground, his men are going to be more preoccupied with their own skin than taking me out."

"Perhaps, but there are several factors that you cannot predict. For instance, how do you even know that Yaga-Shura is even in the camp?" She pointed toward the ruined city, "He could still be in there, causing more havoc. And what if he doesn't fight you himself, instead watching his men tear you apart for his amusement?"

"Well…I'm pretty sure that the main battle's over, probably just a few patrols are around keeping an eye on things, so he'd go back to his camp for more planning. And besides…" I closed my eyes, and in their darkness, I could see the land around me, in sort of a second kind of vision. Everything seemed covered in shadow, a faint outline of its former self. And in the distance, there was but one splash of color, a gleaming crimson glow, somewhere in the camp before me. I felt the familiar heat and tingling down to my soul, "I _know_ he's there. I can feel him…And he'll face me…I know that too."

"Are you certain? Keldorn questioned, looking as worried as Jaheira, "What makes you think he'd agree to a duel?"

"Because," I answered, knowing the answer with all that I was, "I am a Bhaalspawn as well, and that part of me would want the same thing. Brother against brother, in a straight clash. "

"True enough," Sarevok agreed, "And from what was written in his journal, Yaga-Shura wanted to kill you himself."

"Exactly. If I go down there before him, I'm positive he's not going to squander his opportunity to face me by letting his men take me apart instead. And besides," I gave a grin, "I'm willing to bet he doesn't even know about his…weakness yet. As far as he knows, he's still the invincible Yaga-Shura…"

"Even so, this is still too dangerous," Jaheira insisted, "He is a fire giant as well as a Bhaalspawn after all, and will not fall easily even if vulnerable. Why not retreat, and face him when he has no army at his call?"

"No," I gave my head a shake, "If we leave, he'll have the opportunity to gather more soldiers to his cause and he might do to other cities what he did to Saradush. I _won't_ let him do that, I am going to stop him _here_." I took Jaheira into my arms, hugging her close. "Trust me…" She held me tight, sighing into my chest.

"I know when you will not be talked out of something. Though I wish dearly that I could; your stubbornness knows no bounds. But," she grabbed tight, pressing close into me, "Promise me…that if things turn bad you will not try to fight all alone. Promise that you will not die here…Promise…" I gently eased her back and ceased her speaking, placing my lips over hers, taking in and savoring the sweet warmth of her breath. We held on for as long as we were able, until we parted. I lifted some of her stray hair from her eyes, and nodded.

"You have my word."

We embraced once more, and she let go. I gave a smile, drew my sword, turned, and started down the hill.


	32. Dietrich vs YagaShura

**Note: And here we are at last, the battle that we've all been waiting for. Even when this story was just getting started, I had the events of this particular chapter already planned out in detail, and it was really fun to put it into words. And just like the rest of the story, I've played the game through just as I've written it, with the exception of Yoshimo of course. It was hard, no question, but entertaining for me. **

**Anywho, I do have one little note I'd like to add. For those of you that want to feel nostalgic about this epic battle, I recommend that you download the music that is played during the fight. It's called The Bhaalspawn Battle; just play it quietly in the background, and it'll make you remember the first time you played through the game. If anyone has trouble locating it, try Galbadia Hotel or something, they surely got it. **

**Oh, one more thing. I also went back to the first several chapters, up to Chapter 8 I think, redoing a lot of stuff. just letting everyone know. Happy readings y'all!**

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**Chapter 32: **Dietrich vs. Yaga-Shura

Despite my overall dislike of confrontation and situations significantly pertaining to my heritage of murder, I have been both a witness and an unwilling yet active participant of several in my life. Such as in the forgotten temple of Bhaal, deep below the city of Baldur's Gate, amongst the silent statues of horror that my father demanded from his followers, I fought and killed my half brother Sarevok, ending both his life and his maniacal scheme of sparking a war between nations merely to ascend up to Bhaal's place, as the new Lord of Murder. That battle had been long, bloody, and scarred me both physically and emotionally more than just a little bit.

Or when I stood just outside the threshold to the Tree of Life, a monolithic ancient tree, a symbolic life-giver amongst the elves, I had paused. It was because that I knew the madman Jon Irenicus, the man who caused Imoen and Khalid's death, the one who ripped my very soul from my body with his perverse magic's and left me to die, lay just ahead. I had hesitated then too, not just for myself, but for my comrades, who strode alongside me, headlong into death.

But as I marched down the hill to battle and slaughter, I felt no such doubt and fear. Perhaps the sight of the smoldering Saradush, knowing how many people lay dead all because of a frenzied half-god's demented agenda pushed my own quiet rage beyond the realm of dithering and self-doubt. Even the fact that an army lay stretched out before me, knowing full well that several hundred, maybe even several thousand warriors, wizards, and zealous fire giants would be there to thwart my advance, I didn't even slow my stride.

As I left the craggy foothills behind, entering the lower shoreline, I saw several peasants rushing across a stone bridge that had seen better days. They were screaming, covered in ash and several were wounded and bleeding.

Behind them was a small squad of men in hot pursuit, wearing the now familiar colors of Yaga-Shura's mercenary hirelings. They paused at the bridge, pulling their bows free and loosed a volley at the fleeing people. I was hidden in the brush, yet I could hear each and every thunk as the heavy arrows impaled the people, close enough to see their eyes bulge and grow dim, as death slowly descended upon them. The one volley was enough to kill them all, they crumpling to the ground, gasping for their final breath of air. And seeing that meaningless slaughter right before my eyes made me see that brilliant shade of red all over again.

I may have been a soft Bhaalspawn, but I had no desire to show even a shred of mercy to such savage butchers. I emerged from my place in the brush, stepping out in front of the soldiers. Their leader noticed me, getting his men's attention, and pointing a crooked finger at me.

"Get'em boys!' he called out with a callous glee, his lopsided toothy grin making it plain to see he was enjoying himself. Perhaps it was that he would receive a bonus for every innocent he slaughtered from his superiors. Unfortunately, if that was the case, his exuberance now cost him his pay and his existence.

As they were conceitedly pulling arrows from their sheathes, I was already there, leaping high and coming down on top of them, yelling with fury. In the single moment before I struck, I saw their expressions of smugness shatter into panic, but their weapons were unready to fire, and I swung both my arms, my two swords pulled and gleaming, each one splattering the men's blood and sinew across the earth, already a rich deep red, having seen much blood during the day. _And more to come…_

Past the bridge the road split into a fork; the right path leading to the now ruined Saradush, while the left followed the water's edge, leading to the wooden fortifications of Yaga-Shura's camp. I took the left.

Outside the wooden palisade were two guards, who looked mighty unhappy to be posted as lookouts whilst everyone else inside the camp was drinking and celebrating their successful conquest. I graciously made their normally mind-numbing job much more interesting. I cam dashing down the road, making no attempt to hide myself from them. They saw me coming obviously, more than likely surprised to see a lone warrior charging them. They reacted, but not fast enough.

One guard raised the alarm horn to his lips, but I lunged and drove the Equalizer straight through his head, causing both it and his horn to split. I didn't bother cleaning my sword, nor dealing with his counterpart. I wasn't stealthy, not like Yoshimo, and the chances that I would reach Yaga-Shura himself undetected were nonexistence. So I made no attempt to keep quiet. Actually, I think I wanted each and every lowlife in the place to know that the Terror of the Sword Coast had come to call on them all.

The remaining guard went scurrying off to inform his superiors of the intrusion, whilst I kept going, heading deeper and deeper into enemy territory. Every group of mercenary thugs and soldiers I past I ignored, my goal being further in. They didn't ignore me however, ceasing their own personal revelries, swiftly arming themselves and following after me.

I was soon surrounded, easily two hundred men and women of all sizes and races, each armed with steel or magic, forming a wide ring around me. But despite having a slight advantage in numbers, no one made a move. Perhaps they already knew who I was, my reputation being a long and bloody tribute. Facing a man who slaughtered giants, dragons, and weak little hiring's for a living may have been disconcerting.

However, though there was a sense of anxiousness emanating from the crowd, it didn't feel like fear. The more likely scenario was that they were keeping me from running and were waiting, eager to have their lord and master come forth and destroy me, continuing his campaign of death. In that case, I was eager myself.

I let my head pivot, my unflinching glare boring into each and everyone of them. And I kept walking, still keeping the same pace. And the wall around me moved with me, keeping that tight ring, ensuring I remained encircled. When I reached what I deemed the center of the camp or thereabouts, I stopped, ignoring the living wall around me, trying to spot the most lavish tent or structure that would be the leader's quarters. I still didn't see anything that fit the bill, so I decided I had gone into the camp far enough. Now it was time to bring my enemy to me.

_"Yaga-Shura!"_ I thundered, staring about at the circle of fearsome and mocking eyes, "Come out you demented lunatic! Come out and face your brother!" My voice rang off into nothing, vanishing in the air, as I and my _guards_ all stood waiting, silently. For a few moments, nothing happened, and no one spoke. Perhaps no one even breathed…I know I didn't.

Then the vibrations began, tremors that shook the ground, growing more and more powerful. Then from the southwestern corner of the camp, the mass of hired soldiers, invisible beyond the ranks of the others, began to applaud and gave exuberant war cries. Soon he was visible, his head rising up higher and higher above the rest. And soon I got my first look at my half-brother, the infamous Yaga-Shura.

He was a fire giant all right, but it was clear to all as to why he was the leader. Fire giants can stand anywhere from twenty-five to thirty spans in height, weighing an ungodly amount of stones, but the giant that stepped out from the ring of myrmidons was gargantuan. Easily another six or seven spans taller, his body was bulging with muscles almost thicker than I was high.

He was big; he was ugly; he was grinning a black-toothed grin that would've made a blind man howl. Clad in a suit of dark obsidian armor customized to fit his colossal girth and a monolithic warhammer, etched with runes and markings, was clenched in his massive fist. I could feel an intense heat from him, both from his fire giant strength but even more, the essence of Bhaal was quite evident. As it wasn't just strong, it was raging. My skin prickled at his leisurely approach, my muscles tightening, and I felt my own Bhaal blood stir from its slumber, anxious for the battle to come.

Forward he came, his lackeys stepping back and letting him through. Before he cleared their ranks, he paused, towering over them, staring at me. Turning his weapon over and smashing his hammer down into the dirt, he leaned out, giving off that self-satisfied smug smile as he examined me.

"SO YOU CAME BACK," he rumbled, grinning now, "WHAT A LARGE SPINE YOU MUST HAVE IN THE PITIFUL LITTLE BODY OF YOURS." I said nothing, only staring back, and I could feel my eyes harden, and my fingers clenched the hilt of my sword even tighter.

"YOU HAVE MADE ME VERY ANGRY TODAY, MAGGOT," he went on, "I HAD HEARD RUMORS THAT YOU, THE RENOWNED TERROR OF THE SWORD COAST, HAD STUPIDLY FOUND YOUR WAY INTO SARADUSH. I WAS SO IMPAITENT TO KILL YOU, ONE OF THE MOST INFAMOUS OF OUR KIND, THAT I ORDERED MY MEN TO REDOUBLE THEIR EFFORTS TO SMASH INTO THE AFTER WE STORMED INSIDE, IMAGINE MY DISAPPOINTMENT TO LEARN THAT YOU WERE GONE. VANISHED FROM THE CITY SOMEHOW. I HAD TO BE CONTENT WITH ANNHILATING THE REST OF THE WEAKLINGS THAT SHARE OUR BLOOD, WORTHLESS SCUM ALL, WITHOUT A DECENT AMOUNT TO TAINT AMONGST THE WHOLE LOT OF THEM. AND NOW, YOU HAVE SAVED ME THE TROUBLE OF SEARCHING FOR YOU, BY COMING RIGHT TO MY DOORSTEP. THIS WORKS BETTER FOR YAGA-SHURA TOO. NOW I CAN KILL YOU MYSELF, INSTEAD OF YOU DYING IN THE CHAOS OF THE CARNAGE, AND CLAIM THE GLORY OF SLAYING YOU WITH MY OWN HANDS."

"If _I_ was all you wanted, then what was the point of Saradush you maniac? Your fight was with me," I tossed my head across the river, towards the sacked town, "Not them." He must have found this hilarious, for he began to bellow with laughter, clutching his stomach, his near infinite number of hired goons joining in.

"ARROGANT SWINE, HAH HA, TO THINK I WAS GOING TO ALL THIS TROUBLE JUST TO KILL _YOU_. HAH HA HA! YOU THINK TO HIGHLY OF YOURSELF WORM. I WAS GOING TO CRUSH THIS TOWN THE MOMENT I LEARNED THAT THE BHAALSPAWN WERE GATHERED HERE. YOU WERE SIMPLE MODIVATION FOR ME TO DESTROY IT EVEN FASTER. AND THANKS TO YOU, I HAVE DONE IT. THE TOWN IS LEVELED AND ALL THE BHAALSPAWN ARE DEAD…EXCEPT YOU."

"Yes," I nearly hissed in reply, my own rage was beginning to manifest deep inside, hands tightening around the long silver hilt, "They're all dead. As are the innocent townsfolk, the ones who had _nothing_ to do with this mad slaughter of yours. They're dead as well. And now _you_ are going to be the next one to see Hell."

"LET'S SEE YOU TRY IT, INSIGNIFICANT SLUG!"

With our sibling talk concluded, Yaga-Shura lifted his hammer, and stepped past his minions, entering the tight circle that his followers had graciously made around me on my arrival. All eyes were on us brothers, two half-gods ready to clash in perhaps a soon to be legendary melee. My larger brother puffed himself up and let off a battle roar, raising his hammer over his head and all of his surrounding men lifted a cheer for their great leader. Then he refaced me, gave a growl and it began.

He came stampeding towards me, bellowing in his mighty giant voice, and daunting though he was, I was now thoroughly riled up and my anger wasn't going to dissipate until I avenged the fallen in Saradush. I ran forward, meeting his storming rush with my own and as we closed, I watched him, watched each step, each motion of his muscles, tightening and coiled to spring. The moment his arm began to bring his hammer around to smash me to paste, I was already flying.

One of my vaulting leaps took me up and as I passed by, almost high enough to look the ruthless savage in the face, I let my sword trail, making a deep but not horribly deep wound in his right shoulder. I landed in the dust, turned and brought my blade up into a defensive stance. _Now it begins_, thought I.

Yaga-Shura screamed at the wound, skidded to a halt and turned. He gave me a triumphant grin and I suddenly felt a sinking in my gut. In that grin, I felt…and saw my own doom leering back at me. Something had gone wrong. Somehow what we had done, extinguishing his heart and undoing the ancient spell of his invulnerability had failed and his imperviousness had remained regardless. The realization that I was now locked in a deathmatch against an unstoppable juggernaut who was bent on breaking me in half and pulverizing my remains slammed home with enough force to almost stagger me…

At least…that's what _first_ popped into my head.

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"I just thought of something," Jaheira broke the silence, as she stared down into the lights of the camp beyond. Her hands were clutching the keepsake necklace she had gotten from Dietrich and her worry and anxiety was clearly evident. "This Yaga-Shura is confident in his own strength, knowing his regeneration will save him from harm. But if he was suddenly vulnerable once again, feeling pain for the first time in a long while, his confidence might slake, leaving him in a crisis of self-preservation."

"I would imagine so," Yoshimo mused, "One who has been classified as invulnerable would more than likely have an ego to match such status. As such, he believes he cannot die, and has obtained a standing as an immortal, thus the talk of his god-likeness at the temple. But to suddenly be thrust back to the world of mortals will undoubtedly give him much to consider and even fear for his life once more."

"Then isn't it possible that instead of facing Dietrich himself, he would fall back, ordering his followers to fight in his stead?"

"Yes," Keldorn agreed, carefully considering her judgment, "That is a highly likely possibility. He may very well be too stunned and momentarily afraid to act, his greatest defense suddenly stripped away from him. That would thoroughly shock him, I'm sure. And he could very easily send his forces to engage his foe whilst he ponders his vexing problem."

"But do you really think Yaga-Shura would truly be so frightened as to do so?" Yoshimo inquired, "He is after all a fire giant, formidable I'm sure you'll agree, and no doubt he has other powers of the god of murder coursing through him. He may lose his cocky attitude, but he may still wish to fight himself."

"Possible," Keldorn thought on this, "but I feel that because Dietrich is a Bhaalspawn himself, and renowned as being powerful and quite formidable, then it would be enough to give Yaga-Shura pause. He would still consider himself superior I have no doubt, but the risk, no matter how small, that he might lose his life could very easily drive him to drastic action. Such a possibility is extraordinarily dangerous, as should that happen, Dietrich shall be alone down there, hopelessly outnumbered."

"We must help him!" Jaheira cried out, snatching up her weapons and equipment, "He will be killed! He cannot stop an entire army!" Before she could rush down the hill however, a towering wall of steel barred the path. Sarevok, at his fullest height, was glowering down at her.

"Move, you heartless detestation!" she shouted, not caring if her voice carried or not, "Dietrich is in danger!"  
"I will not. Dietrich wished to face Yaga-Shura in one on one battle, and ordered us to remain here. By going, you disrupt his orders and his own carefully laid plans."

"You do nothing knowing that your brother could be down there dying?"

"Brother or no, it is Dietrich's wish to confront this battle alone, facing all the perils by himself. I shall not interfere with that."

"I knew it!" she accused, "You wish for him to die, isn't that so? You've _always_ wished to kill him. And now that you cannot do so with your own hands, you instead help him rush to his death."

"Killing Dietrich or seeking his downfall as of now is meaningless," Sarevok explained calmly, still lacking any and all emotion except his somber logic, "He is pivotal to the prophecies, that is undeniable and he _must_ remain alive until they reach their conclusion."

"If that is your intent, then why do you stand here like a stone?! Get out of my way!" And she rushed forward, meaning to brush past him and dash down to the camp. However, an armor-bound hand seized her wrist, holding her tight, preventing her from leaving.

"Release me!" she screamed, clawing and beating at his hand, which held her like an unbreakable iron cuff.

"Unhand her Sarevok," Keldorn commanded, pulling his own sword free, and leveling its point at the yellow-eyed statue, "And stand aside. We have a duty sworn to assist and protect Dietrich from all manner of harm. And we will not falter now; no matter what overwhelming odds we face. And no matter who stands in our way."

"Duty?" Sarevok gave them all a callous grin, "You still have no idea do you? Hah, how ridiculous. You…all of you have traveled with him for so long…and you claim to know him _so_ well. Yet you fail to understand him and his own plans. And I, who have known him in unhostile terms the least amount of time, understood easily. I suppose our blood is to blame. I see how he and I are very much alike."

"NEVER!" Jaheira shouted semi-hysterically, still trying to break free, "Dietrich is a loving man, compassionate and honest! You are a revolting villain who should have remained dead!"

"What are you speaking of?" Keldorn demanded, eyeing the armored giant.

"You are worried that Yaga-Shura will be so surprised by his loss of invulnerability that he might order his entire army upon Dietrich in his panic."

"Yes!" Jaheira cried out, "And they will outnumber and kill him! Don't you understand?!" Sarevok gave his head a shake.

"You are the ones who do not understand. You speak as if Dietrich had been unaware of that possibility before he left."

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Yaga-Shura's grin was as huge and conquering as a dragon's, but in a moment or two, it faded to an air of shock and unease. His shoulder still oozed blood; the viscous boiling succor kept running down his dark armor, showing no signs of slowing. With a look of almost stupid bewilderment, he prodded his shoulder, wincing at his touch. It was then that his eyes opened wide in alarm.

"NO!" he hollered, clutching at his shoulder as his blood continued to run, "NO, THIS CANNOT BE! I AM WOUNDED?!" He sounded staggered; the greatest of his advantages was no more

"MEN," be bellowed, waving a somewhat frantic hand at his surrounding cohorts, "ANNIHILATE THIS FILTH! TEAR HIS HEART OUT OF HIS CHEST AND GRIND HIS CORPSE TO DUST!" The large group around us murmured amongst themselves, passing bewildered and uncertain expressions back and forth, their own confidence damaged. Then perhaps the realization came back to them that there was more than two hundred of them and only one of me, as they steeled themselves, lifting their weapons and hands, inching forward.

As I stared out amongst the circle around me, closing in, weapons drawn, their own faces fraught with uncertainly yet grim determination, I knew the time had come. The thought of breaking the promise to Jaheira made me feel low, a liar and a betrayer, but it was the only option I had. And somewhere deep down inside of me, that murder-loving part of me had been waiting for this.

They rushed, yelling obscenities and warcries of their own homelands, but my sword did not rise to guard myself. Instead, I cast it aside, and let my eyes fall closed. I listened to the sounds of fear and savagery in the air around me. I took it in, swallowed it down, nourishment to feed me. And in the darkness of my closed eyes…I…saw _it_. Saw the gleaming fangs of the beast, stained a permanent crimson. I saw the grotesque form, twisted and knarled, a tribute to the monstrosity that Bhaal himself was. I felt it howl, its terrible hunger awaken; I felt the warm delicious desire to end life and take delightful pleasure in it.

It howled once more, and then…it came flooding to the surface…

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"What?" Jaheira blurted out, "Do you expect us to believe that Dietrich went down there alone, _knowing_ that Yaga-Shura might break down and order his defense? Preposterous, he is not nearly so stupid!"

"You share intimate relations with him," Sarevok sneered down at her, "yet you know nothing as to how his mind truly functions. His thoughts are closer to mine than any of you. He was well aware of that fact when he ordered you to stay behind. And it was not out of stupidity that he did so. He knew that such an outcome was possible…in fact, I believe he was hoping that would happen."

"Absurd! Dietrich knows he has limits, that there are something's he cannot overcome. If he was faced with such an impossible situation, he could perhaps be reckless, but he wouldn't choose a path filled with such terrible risks."

"Truly?" Sarevok retorted, "Then why is it that he is down there and we are sitting here?"

"Because he was worried about us, you callous fool! He does not wish for us to be put into danger!"

"Then you know nothing. He does indeed wish for your safety, but you are naive to believe his words so readily. And _you_ are the fool to think that Dietrich stands no chance against the force gathered here. He wouldn't have gone if he thought he wasn't."

"I…" Keldorn was quiet, looking down towards the distant camp; his brow furrowed deeply, "I…believe I know now what you mean Sarevok…"

"What?!" Jaheira whirled towards him, her eyes growing more frantic with each moment, "Do not tell me you have sided with him as well? Are you mad?"

"I understand your feelings Jaheira…but there are certain…elements to this situation that we had not considered…Something we had missed…"

"What? What are we missing?"

"That he did not leave you behind out of apprehension in facing the army," Sarevok answered for him, "True enough, there was a highly likely chance we'd all had been killed at the hands of the countless soldiers down there, but there was something far more dangerous for him to be concerned about in regards to your safety than that."

"What?" Jaheira whispered, looking so fragile and frail now, her face draining of color and her previous ferocity, emptied to an almost ashen pale, "What should we fear if not that?"

"Can you not guess?" Sarevok asked, his eyes glowing brighter, gesturing towards the distant camp, where even now there was a rising chorus of frantic screams piercing the still morning, "Dietrich himself…"

---

---

---

When one is hired to serve in an army as a soldier, or assigned to being a guard, the average pay is minimal at best, but then, the duties attached to those jobs are also simple and often mundane. So for the soldiers in Yaga-Shura's camp, for what they were forced to face, they should have been paid fifty times their usual wages, perhaps even a hundred times. If they had survived…

Most everyone present was struck to silence to see their invincible Bhaalspawn leader take a direct hit from another's weapon and continue to bleed afterwards, instead of the wound healing away to nothingness. It was a shake to their confidence but not so much as to be afraid of a single man, Bhaalspawn or no. He was dangerous, sure, but not indestructible either and they had him surrounded with superior numbers. No problems.

But when they felt something, a dense feeling in the air, of something terrible approaching, they stopped and silenced themselves, staring at their enemy.

There was a echoing roar which was not human that came gushing out of the Bhaalspawn's throat, nearly drowning out the sound of something ripping, like cloth being torn apart. As they watched, the bronze skin of the Bhaalspawn began to split and tear, blood gushing out everywhere, pooling over his feet. In all placed it cracked open, peeling away in fleshy strips and jagged fragments. Beneath this was the dark crimson maroon skin, more hard-bitten than the most well-tanned leather.

Jutting from this toughened hide were long slender arcs of bone, tapering off into invisible points. Obsidian black claws and fangs, dirty matted clumps of dark hair, blood still caked all through it. And staring out back at the mere mortals gathered around, two golden eyes, gleaming, filled with a malicious glee, surveying all the men destined to be corpses that cowered before it.

And suddenly the Slayer fell upon them all. With a vicious lunge, it went flying past over a dozen of them. Nine of them fell instantly, their insides torn from their bodies, torsos impaled, skulls crushed. Using its armored and spike-riddled body, the Slayer tore through the living wall surrounding it, springing into piles of them, claws swiping, jaws crunching, its whole body thrashing. When facing such a gruesome and terrible creature, even the strongest and most fearless of men buckle and cry in mortal fear. And many gather in that camp were hardly bold, let alone valiant or heroic, so the symphony of shrieks and yells in the air must surely have carried for miles.

Dozens fell, maybe even a hundred or two, some of the luckiest of ones managed to score a hit. But their simple swords could not puncture the outer shell of the creature, their blades glancing off with a blaring grate. And seeing a true nightmare before them, unleashed in all its unholy fury, the remainder left alive felt the time had come to depart. In a wild mad dash, the majority content of Yaga-Shura's grand army fled for their lives, scattering to the four points of the compass, hoping to be spared of the horrifying monster's wrath.

Then in the frenzied withdrawing rush, came the elites; the fire giants of Yaga-Shura's temple stronghold, now stepping out and into the fight. Unlike the mercenaries scrambling for cover, these giants were fanatical in their cause and though frightened they were, they did not hold anything back. Twelve of them came towards the hunched creature, wary but not about to back down. They lifted their hammers and came on the run, spreading out to attack from three sides. It made no difference, as with the mercenaries, the Slayer picked them apart.

With a thundering wail, it bounded across the earth on all four limbs, rushing like a grotesque hunting lion. And like an enormous feline it sprang upward, twisting and bucking, its arms and teeth reaching out to make contact wherever it could. Wounds opened on the giants, their bodies being mangled and savagely torn apart by the ruthless and relentless claws. Several of their counterstrikes connected, but to no avail. The tremendous blows merely sent the monster sprawling, only to have it leap back to its feet in an instant, rushing back at them with redoubled ferocity.

Eventually, even the giants broke down, hollering in panic, crashing into one another to try and retreat. As one would turn flee, the Slayer leapt, landing on the giant's head, only to maul his face and neck, its writhing flailing gouging out eyes and loosing a torrential surge of bubbling crimson. And as the rest ran, the Slayer followed, shaking the very earth around it with its blazing roar.

Soon, the area was deserted; all combatants had long taken flight, those who fought were now carcasses. All that remained was the creature of death, standing amidst the massacre, heaving growling breaths, eyes sweeping back and forth, seeking out another living thing to kill, to pierce their flesh and watch as their blood spill across the earth. But nothing presented itself, if there was anyone left no one dared come forward. The fury of battle dissipated, and the Slayer let off a groan, as it began to hunch over. It's vivacious maroon hide began to dull, turning a ash gray and it sounded as if it was slowly turning to stone, with the grinding of rock, as it ceased moving and became still…

---

---

---

I came back to myself soon after the last fire giant fell. My consciousness came back in a daze and was restored, and I found myself mired in darkness. But I was okay I knew, though I had to once again claw and heave myself out of the hardened exterior shell of the Slayer, it's previous near impervious body now becoming brittle, crumpling to dust as I emerged. As much as it disgusted me, it fascinated me more that whenever I changed into that thing, my clothes are torn to pieces and my weapons are discarded or destroyed, but when I emerge, they return as if nothing had happened.

As soon as my head made it back to the outside, breaking free from the fragile remains of the evil beast, I began to inhale as much air as I could, trying to calm my runaway heart, feeling my adrenalin still coursing through me. With a little pulling and pushing, I worked my way back outside, finally planting my feet on the ground once more.

I scoured about, eventually finding my silver sword, which I had thrown aside, half-buried in the blood-soaked dirt and I hoisted it back to its proper place. Only then did I behold the sight around me. It looked like the aftermath of a truly epic battle, soldiers and giants strewn everywhere, the ground beneath my feet a dark maroon, the air around rich with the aroma of blood and fear. But for once…I felt no pity. This was what happened to them when they destroyed an entire city, killing all of its inhabitance indiscriminately. Murder or no, this was justice.

But I wasn't alone…In a surge I felt it, the Bhaal essence of such strength that it made my skin crawl, relentlessly boring into my mind. And it was near. I whirled…and saw him.

Yaga-Shura was growling, his dark teeth grinding together, generating a sound that nearly made me winch. His still wounded shoulder had been hastily wrapped in canvas, more than likely from one of his tents. He glanced to and fro at his now deserted camp; his army scattered, his elite guard dead, and the one responsible for it all standing before him, sword in hand, waiting.

"_YOU…_YOU CONNIVING SLIME!" he bellowed in fury, heaving breaths, trembling with his rage, "YOU HAVE WEAKENED ME SOMEHOW! YOU AND THAT FOUL WITCH, I KNOW IT! NO MATTER…" he lifted his hammer once more, beating a grimy sweaty fist against his iron clad chest, puffing himself out. "I WILL STILL CRUSH YOU, AND YAGA-SHURA SHALL BECOME EVEN GREATER STILL! RHAAAAAAGH!"

And with an attack laden with anger and thoughts of revenge, Yaga-Shura came storming at me once more.

I took my stance, but I felt no fear at him. He was big and strong, but I was small and fast. I wasn't worried. As he came swooping past, his hammering coming down with the force of a thunderbolt, I side-stepped, narrowly missed being reduced to a grease spot and darted forward. My sword trailed along his right calf this time, cutting deep, splurting blood, but not nearly bad enough to sever his leg. Yes, he had armor leggings that matched his darkened breastplate to dampen the blow, and yes, his legs were the thickness of a healthy adult oak with hide-like skin covering them, but neither one of these factors would have made much difference to my sword.

The only reason Yaga-Shura kept his leg on my pass was because _I_ let him. I could have taken it, left him with a stump and watch him collapse, clutching at it, screaming in agony, as he saw his oh so special blood pouring out all over the place. It would have ended the fight definitely. But that would have been far too quick and merciful. This butcher deserved to be hacked into hundreds of pieces, cut from him bit by agonizing bit, letting him feel the taste of the pain he had been inflicting for weeks and months. And that was what I was going to do.

He hollered at his wound, now grasping his leg, trying to hold his blood in. He then snarled, blistering me with a boiling fierceness from his eyes and again he came wheeling around, lunging once more.

On my next pass, I nimbly slid under his hammer again and let my sword slice in, tearing straight through his obsidian armor, opening a long jagged gash along the left side of his torso. Following that, I made another leap and speared him right in the bicep of his left arm. Then I slashed his right thigh, followed by a chunk I tore from his chest, his scream of each burning sting echoing anew with every wound inflicted.

And after several more, a zigzag mark on his face, carving his left shoulder to match his right, and even stabbing him straight into his right foot, the mighty giant ceased his charging, as he could only stand there swaying, breathing deep, his gasps deep. The force required to stay on his feet must have been too much, as soon he was driven to his knees, trying to recover, groaning at the blood he was losing. I stood on out of his range, watching him trying to recuperate, and I felt an almost sick satisfaction in seeing him powerless.

"What's the matter with you _brother_?" I called sinisterly, feeling my lust of death well upward from below, bubbling to the surface, "Don't tell me this is the best the _great_ Yaga-Shura can do?" I felt a violent remorseless sneer rise to my mouth, as I began to advance, twirling my sword as I walked, "Where is all your strength and power now? Where's your almighty Bhaalspawn taint now? Driven to you knees by the insignificant slug? You are nothing but an insect compared to me, a fool who is deluded by thoughts of grandeur and power…See the truth now…Your power is no match for mine…Now…" I brought my sword about, leveling the point at Yaga-Shura's head, "I am going to enjoy taking you apart piece by piece. Prepare yourself!"

Now it was my turn to charge, I dashing forward, sword trailing behind, intending to perhaps slice his ear off this time, or maybe a few fingers. So focused was my mind in the thought of carving up the sadistic sludge that was my brother, I was caught unprepared. Yaga-Shura heard me coming, I'm sure, and when I was almost within striking distance, he made his move. Probably the only move available to him at the moment. With a yell and a titanic heave of his colossal girth, he sluggishly turned around, using the momentum of his spin to fling his hammer at me with everything he had left.

I saw it a moment too late, as that enormous hammer came hurling towards me. I was moving too fast and was far too close to evade his last ditch attack. All I could do was to turn slightly so I did not take the hit directly, but regardless I still felt as well as heard numerous snaps from within my body as that great flying piece of metal slammed into me, and searing white hot anguish began to bore into my frame. The blow sent me sailing back the way I had come, cart-wheeling across the ground, bouncing like a skipping pebble, each harsh impact merely adding to the already excruciating pain. Finally I came to rest, flat on my back staring up at the color of dawn in the sky overhead.

I tried to move; only to find out I could barely manage to blink my eyelids. My legs felt as if there weren't even there; the act of taking in air to continue to breathe brought a whole new meaning to the word suffering, my head spun, my vision was blurry and unfocused. I couldn't even tell if I was alive or in one piece. But there was thing I _could_ tell…I was back to myself…While I was fighting Yaga-Shura…as I was hacking him to pieces slowly…taking fiendish delight in his torment…that hadn't been me…had it?

I had precious little time to speculate on it though, as amidst my own injuries and pain, I could faintly hear my brother, still panting, groaning as he moved, rising to his feet no doubt. I felt the tremors of his footsteps, though staggered and uneven they were, meaning that he was most likely hurting as much as I. And I know I was certainly hurting. Then I heard him, his voice as wobbly as his walking.

"YOU…YOU ARE STRONGER THAN I…WOULD HAVE BELIEVED POSSIBLE," my towering brother wheezed, "HOW A SPINELESS PIECE OF GARBAGE…UNWORTHY OF THE ESSENCE OF BHAAL IN THE FIRST PLACE…HAS SUCH STRENGTH…IS A MYSTERY…YET…I CAN _FEEL_ IT IN YOU…THE POWER OF BHAAL GROWS STRONGER…AND…YOU SPOKE…NOT LIKE THE SOFT, SNIVELING WEAKLING FROM THE STORIES…BUT LIKE US…LIKE A TRUE BHAALSPAWN…I…I SEE HOW YOU HAVE SURVIVED…BUT I… AM YAGA-SHURA, CHILD OF BHAAL…AND I…WILL CRUSH YOU…"

He was coming, and I was in a bad position. He could move, and I couldn't…in my state, he could finish me off just about any way he wanted. My vorpal sword was lost, falling from my slack grip during my flight. Not that I could have wielded such a large heavy…Then I remembered…I reached out and summoned all the Bhaal taint I had within me and then some, forcing some feeling and mobility back into my right hand. I reached down, groping blindly. And I felt…

At last I could see him; he was standing over my mangled self, staring down. Naturally, he wasn't grinning anymore, his own air of superiority having vanished like smoke in the wind, but strangely, he didn't look angry either. His eyes were surprisingly calm despite how he looked half dead, drenched in blood, still trying to recover his breath.

"TIME TO DIE, LITTLE BROTHER," he told me, his face still somber and cold. And he reached his hands out, no doubt to pick me up and crush me into dust. I watched…that hand was enormous, its shadow almost covering me entirely. I knew I had one chance, one hope to save myself from death, and but a moment before he seized me up, I took it. With a desperate tug and cold ring of steel, a flash of blue danced into my hand and I plunged it upward with all the strength I had left, feeling it delve into the flesh of his palm.

"RHHAAAAAA!" he shrieked, pulling back and clutching his hand, now engulfed in the punishing cobalt fire of the Equalizer. Even as he staggered back, I fumbled again and this time I found the hilt of my other sword, struggling to unsheathe it. It fell into my hand with a singing metallic resonance and crackle of electricity. I had nothing left, my strength had long fled, yet somehow I raised the sword, even though it felt as heavy as a bolder, leveling its chisel point toward my brother above me, whom was still flailing in agony.

"Die…you murdering bastard…" I managed to whisper, before emitting the single glittering word engraved on the hilt of the Celestial Fury. With a roar of thunder, the gleaming bolt of azure came ripping out from the tip, flying upward. I could see nothing in the flash, but I heard the sounds of impact, an explosion and a choked gurgle. A moment later I could see, with my dimming vision.

My brother stood motionless, frozen in his unforeseen moment of death. The upper part of his head, from the eyes on up was gone, nothing but a smoldering charred jagged skull, whatever had been above it was now vaporized. His hand continued to burn, it slowly being consumed by the brilliant fire, but he felt it no more.

The last thing I saw before the darkness enveloped me was my brother; Yaga-Shura, teetering and finally falling straight back. I could feel and hear the tremendous impact of his final resting place, as dust blasted over me, and I felt…a wave of relief momentarily dulling the pain.

Two down…


	33. Forgotten History

**Chapter 33:** Forgotten History

I had once had my soul sucked away to Hell whilst I still lived, dragging me along for the ride down deep into the Abyss. With my consciousness fading, it felt the same way; my body was left behind, my spirit floating weightlessly along the air currents. It was disorienting, so much so that I had no perception of where I was or where I was going. Yet I knew I was going somewhere, despite being in pain. But soon, even that began to fade away.

I felt whole again, my body felt fine…it didn't feel like I had just picked a fight with a half-god fire giant and gotten the tar knocked out of me by his gigantic warhammer. I felt light actually, warm and almost weightless. My eyes opened and I saw none to my surprise that I no longer stood upon the blood-soaked earth of Yaga-Shura's camp.

It was my pocket plane, as cozy yet still somewhat unnerving as ever. But I was alone, the corpse of my brother was not there, nor were my friends. I didn't even see Cespenar going about his butler duties. I stood for a moment only, vexed, and then started for the exit portal, as I must have accidentally willed myself here in my rapidly fading consciousness, perhaps to keep me alive.

But before I could depart, a pillar of gleaming golden light descended from the mold green sky above, illuminating my somewhat drab plane with a heavenly glow. And standing before me was the shimmering and radiant solar that had visited me before.

_"Greetings to you, you of divine blood,"_ she spoke, smiling a dazzling smile, _"It is time to further your education…"_ I bowed before her, though I was a surprised to see her. I had almost thought the first time had been a hallucination or dream.

"Again you bring me here. And again I am honored." I glanced down and noticed that my clothes were no longer coated in blood or tattered, and my body didn't ache and scream in pain. "My thanks for the healing and restoring of my garb. I had certainly seen better days before." The solar's smile remained.

_"I'm afraid I have not. Your form now is an embodiment of your physical soul and in this place, it is always intact. When you return, you will find your mortal shell in the same state you left it."_

"That's what I was afraid of," I groaned, "Looks like I got a couple of days being bedridden to look forward to…"

_"Fear not, for your injuries are not grave. For now, let your mind turn back to the present and focus on why you are here."_

"Ah yes, education you said. What did you mean?" The solar didn't start right away, gathering herself up it seemed, perhaps preparing herself just as she was about to prepare me.

_"I only mean that it is now time to progress onward with your teachings of the chaos around you in which you now stride. It is, after all, the legacy of Bhaal. And it means a discovery of yourself and your destiny, which has now progressed forward due to your efforts. Yaga-Shura is now dead, killed by your hands, yet the forces of this vital event are drawing steadily to their conclusion. And you must be ready to face them when they come. Do you feel you are ready?"_ I could only shrug.

"I suppose I am as ready for this as any man can be when faced with the tribulations of gods and the heavens. Speak on."

_"Very well. You must now learn of yourself and more importantly, the events of your past. Heed it closely."_

"My past? While I admit that I am a bit curious about that my earlier days, exactly what does my past have anything to do with the present? Shouldn't I be focusing more on the current events and less on ancient history?"

_"The past teaches us much which may become invaluable for the future. And if one is to examine the person that they are, to question their very nature, then it is impossible to answer without knowing every aspect of oneself. Your present self knows of who and what you are but there is yet another part of you that has always been shrouded in secret, a mystery that you had never solved. Your origins, God-Child, how you came to be and the circumstances involved. After all, how can one have a future with no past?"_

"An interesting point," I conceded.

_"Tell me…"_ she continued on, _"what do you know of your mother? Or your life before brought to the safety of Candlekeep by Gorion?"_ I thought on this hard, as I had done many times in the past. I had always imagined my mother as a beautiful woman, though troubled beyond belief by the fact that Bhaal, the Lord of Murder himself was the father of her child. That maybe she had died in my birth…And Gorion? How had he been there? A friend of my mother perhaps? A passing acquaintance? As for life before Candlekeep…

"Nothing," I answered slowly, not sure if it was truth or not, "Well…I've had images…feelings almost, unfamiliar and cloudy in my dreams when I was young, but if you're asking of anything definite that I can recall of that time, then I'm afraid I know nothing of my past." She nodded, most likely already knowing that herself.

"_Then the time has come for you to learn of yourself. Stand ready then…your history unfolds…"_

"I am ready to listen." Although I wasn't sure I was. I could feel cold sweat begin to run.

Before us, there was a blast of light along with a surge of wind which kicked up the dirt of my plane, forcing me to shield my eyes. It lasted for no more than a moment and when I looked once more, I saw a woman standing before me, though her form was wavering and hazy, that of a projection. A ghost of the past…

But I was puzzled; I had never met this woman before, I was sure. Nor had I ever seen her face…I think. The more I stared the more a sense of familiarity came over me. A moment later, I saw the truth. Her features were similar, too similar to be anyone else. I knew her…I knew who she was…or had been…My mother…I had no doubt.

She was indeed beautiful, as I had always imagined, with long flowing hair of gleaming black, keen deep eyes that spoke of strength of will, and a pallid yet vibrant complexion. The only clothes she wore was a black tunic of simple design, and with it she seemed to have a somewhat dark radiance about her. Despite my shock however, I was distressed to see a hauntingly familiar crest on the front of her shirt, a grinning skull, surrounded by droplets of water. Or to some…blood.

Her body seemed to come alive as she stirred and she turned straight to me, looking me up and down, giving me a gentle curious smile.

"Hello my child. I am your mother. I am Alianna, a priestess of The Lord of Murder Bhaal. It was during the Times of Troubles that my lord and master Bhaal came to me and whispered into my ear. He told me that I was to bear one of his children, the fuel of his rebirth. I was to bear you. I raised my arms and hailed my Lord of Murder at the joy of my glorious fortune. Those of our sect took me, hid me away from prying and meddling eyes, along with others who were to give birth to the Children. And when the tragedy foretold to us all occurred, when our Lord met his tragic demise, it was then that we began our duty, that which you and the others were sired for…"

Almost interrupting her, a column of flame roared up next to her, emanating from a fissure in the earth. Bones rose from the fire, piecing together to form a human skeleton. And as the inferno subsided, a wisp of smoke encircled the standing bones and in a puffing flash, there stood…Gorion.

My step-father. Yet unlike the wraith lord that had maliciously impersonated him, this _was_ Gorion, I knew it with all that I was. Yet he was transparent, I could see right through him. I felt compelled to rush over and hug the man who had more or less been my father, dead or not, but he began to speak, in the same hard grizzled tone that I remembered.

"Her task was a grim one. She and the others were to sacrifice their babes upon the bloodiest of altars, to send the dark taint of Bhaal back to its source. She was to kill _you_…"

"It was necessary," the phantom of Alianna insisted, "You _had_ to die…so that the great Bhaal could live once more."

"But I and several colleagues of mine discovered this temple and knew what it was the priests and priestess were attempting to do. We could not stand idly by and let the Lord of Murder return. We mustered our strength, launching an attack on the temple, stopping your mother from performing the ritual." My mother seemed to grow irritated, glancing over at my step-father.

"We resisted…It was after all, the will of Bhaal, the father of my child."

"They were many," Gorion seemed to recall, "And they wielded powerful magic. We took many losses, as did they, but time was against us. I slew the priestess…"

"He killed me," Alianna wailed out, casting an accusing finger towards Gorion, "He slew me…your own mother!" Gorion paid her no heed as he went on.

"I seized you up amidst the chaos and spirited you away, even as many other of the Bhaalspawn children died…"

With a terrible shriek that chilled my blood and sent a violent quiver dancing down my backbone, the ghost of my mother keeled over, collapsing on the fridge stone ground, slowly evaporating into mist, vanishing. As she faded, another figure was beginning to manifest within the mist near Gorion. This one was small, a child, a boy, perhaps five or six, with dark skin and an expression of seriousness on his face hardly befitting that of an innocent child.

"But not all of us perished," the boy reminded him, his tone bitter and cold, "Some of us used the confusion to flee, to escape…"

And then it struck me…A boy, a Bhaalspawn like me, with harsh bitterness bred into his very being…Sarevok…This boy was my half-brother as a child. A phantasm of his boyhood.

"Yes," Gorion sighed, looking somewhat forlorn, "I know this…not all the Children died that night, though I saved the only one I could."

"He chose _you_," the spirit of Sarevok's youth turned to me, his gaze condemning and hateful, "He could not take us all. But I was there too. And I was forced to wander aimlessly, without a family or comfort, until I was taken in by foster parents, Rieltar of the Iron Throne. Enduring his _tender_ care, his beatings and watching my step-mother strangled before my eyes. Why you? Why did he take you?"

"I saved you Dietrich," Gorion said again, looking at me with those same piercing gray eyes, "I could not save both of you, and I left the others to what fate awaited them." The young Sarevok gave a dismissive shrug of his shoulders.

"It mattered not…I killed Gorion in the end…" And without a further sound from either, both figures began to dissipate, disappearing and leaving me deep in thought and a numb feeling in my heart.

_"And so now your past has been revealed to you,"_ the solar spoke out, I forgetting that she had still been present,_ "Your mother, a priestess of Bhaal, killed by Gorion."_ She then paused, perhaps to give me a moment to ponder and respond. I'll admit I was certainly lacking any words for what I had just witnessed.

"I…suppose I see why Gorion never told me of this… Had he not been there to stop them, I would not have survived. I guess I am now even more grateful for everything he had done for me."

_"Tell me, do you feel no sadness over your mother's murder by your step-father's hands?"_

"Would you?" I asked back, feeling more than slightly ill, "My mother wanted to _kill_ me…she never saw me as a child, _her_ child, but as a sacrificial lamb only, meant for the purpose of bringing her evil god back from the dead. If she had shown love for me, thought of me other than a vessel for her master's rebirth, then I _might_ feel distress. But she didn't and I don't. I feel only relief that Gorion and his friends had been there to stop them, not just to keep them from killing me, but also preventing the return of Bhaal. There actions were that of heroes, not of savage butchering murderers following their orders with a fanatical devotion."

"_I see. And what of your brother Sarevok?"_ the solar now pressed, _"You were taken from the temple, leaving him and others behind on their own. But what if fate had intervened? What if instead of you, Gorion had taken Sarevok and left you to fend for yourself? Would you have grown up to be as he was, to follow the same path as him? Would he perhaps be where you stand now, him living your life and you his, if not for the smallest twist of destiny? Do you feel that there is a debt owed between you because of it?"_

This question required much pondering. I made a habit to never really think too deeply on what-if scenarios, as I usually felt them to be irrelevant mostly. After all, I had enough to think about with things as they are, let alone on what they might have been. But that aside, I felt this matter was worth considering.

"I…really don't know. Perhaps…Although I don't know if it was _my_ debt. It was not as though it was _my_ choice that things turned out as they had, that I asked Gorion to save me. And whether or not I'd end up the same way as Sarevok…I don't know that either. It is possible I guess, I could have been driven to such madness due to the taint of Bhaal. But then again, one small change on my part and I could have lived a different life than his entirely. I suppose he could have as well, but he chose not to. But maybe I do have blame for what befell him, beyond my control though it was. I must think on this."

The solar smiled and dipped her head.

"_Then we are finished for now. You have done well God-Child, pondering your past with wisdom and clarity. Another test of yourself is open to you now. Seek the challenge when you are ready. Now return to your destiny and walk forward with these revelations in mind. I shall see you again…Farewell God-Child."_

And before I could ask any further questions, the lights went out, and I felt myself falling…


	34. Two Enclaves

**Chapter 34:** Two Enclaves

"… dead…"

"NO!" a sweet woman's voice sounded, semi-frantic and hostile, "He is still breathing and his body still retains warmth. He _is_ alive, I _know_ he is…He must be…he _has_ to be…"

"Jaheira," a noble somber baritone of a voice spoke with a calm soothing tone, "I am certain he is alive as well, but it is not wise to stay here to treat him. A less open location would be best. Is it safe to move him?"

"I do not know; I haven't seen the extent of his injuries, and until I do, moving him would be the worst thing we could do."

"There shouldn't be any worries," a Kozakuran accent pointed out with a surprising lightness, "With Yaga-Shura dead his men are scattered, not likely to come back."

"Mayhaps, but there are many items left in this camp and no doubt treasure from all the army's victories, their spoils of war. If any of them decides to loot this place, now that their master lies dead, it would be difficult to protect Dietrich."

"That is assuming he is not just a corpse," now a dark sinister voice silenced the others, "From the look of him, perhaps he has died already, having fought his final battle."

"Shut up you foul creature!" the woman snarled at him, "Say that again, and I shall call upon all the forces of Nature to send you back to the dark Abyss that you belong in, I swear it!"

"I am interested in seeing you try, but nonetheless, I speak nothing but the truth. Dietrich is a Bhaalspawn true enough, but mortal as well. Death is inevitable for even us, and in such a situation involving an army and fire giants, death is a highly possible outcome, even for as one as skilled as he."

"Yet you did not help him when you had the chance," the woman accused bitterly, "You stood by and let him do all the fighting whilst you sat back and watched."

"As I said, it was by Dietrich's will that you and I stay behind. Take a look around you, and see what he alone accomplished; see the fury that the blood of Bhaal can unleash. Would you have liked to be here when this happened? Regardless, whether or not his decision to face this battle alone was foolish or wise is irrelevant, the outcome is all that matters. And if he is dead, than that is the end of it."

"But before you said that Dietrich was pivotal to the prophecies of old," the noble voice reminded him, "If that is so, then his death may have disastrous repercussions."

"…Perhaps I was mistaken…"

"Dellac is alright," came in yet another voice, this one jolly and booming, "Boo has assured me. Such a great hero can never be beaten by a giant of such terrible and smelly evil…Well, _beaten up_ maybe, but not killed, no sir. You wait and see, soon he will be back up and kicking evil in the shins, even harder than before, and letting the evil men of the world know that if you mess with Durric and Minsc, then your butt shall be _stomped_!"

"I pray that your hamster is correct again this time," the woman's voice now sounded cheerless, "Because if not…then…then…"

I slowly returned during the midst of all of this, though once again my mind was unfortunately clouded by pain. Yet enough of my senses had returned to piece together the transpiring events, associating the voices with their owners.

Upon my close shave of a victory, my soul had made a detour to my pocket plane to take in the story of my past. Whilst I was out being schooled in matters of days gone by, the battlefield had fallen silent and my friends had no doubt wondered if the battle was truly over, and if so, the outcome. So they must have crept down into the camp, searching until they found my mangled body along side my fire giant brother, and have been gathered around me, discussing my fate ever since.

"What is verdict druid?" the chilling voice of my brother asked, grim with impatience, "Is he dead or not?" I had enough of listening to people talk of speculating whether or not I had expired in my battle with Yaga-Shura, and I resolved to answer myself. Though it took a lot of effort, struggling to pry my eyes open, letting in the blaring light of morning, blinding me.

"…Not…dead…" I spluttered out, feeling flecks of blood spitting off my lips. I could hardly see around me, just some blurs hovering overhead, but the silence that followed led me to believe that they had thought I really was dead. Though their shock did not last long as Jaheira spoke first.

"Dietrich!" she cried, throwing herself on top of me, all but seizing my limp carcass into her arms, and began to plant frenzied kisses across my blood splattered lips, "Dietrich…oh Dietrich…I thought…I…but, are you…you aren't…?"

"Are you alright?" Keldorn pressed, kneeling down now, laying a hand on my shoulder. I wanted to nod but I found moving any part of my body more than a slight fraction was phenomenally painful, so I had to be content to bubble some more words out of my mouth.

"I'm…(cough)…alive…sort of…"

"Thank the gods," Jaheira was wiping her eyes; her fair complexion paled significantly, her brow creased in worry. "You've been…you…_You stupid bastard!_" and suddenly her passionate embrace had tightened into something close to a death hold, and I felt my body being jostled about, "What in the Nine hells were you _thinking_? What is wrong with you, you senseless fool?"

"Ow…" I groaned.

"Don't you _ever_ do something that insane and thoughtless like that again!" she went on shouting, "You leave us out of harms way and nearly get yourself killed?! Never again, do you hear me, never do something like that again, or so help me…I…I'll…!" she was shaking me but it was weakening, and I could hear her voice getting choked up, with tears of joy and anger both that were most likely welling in her eyes.

"Listen," I croaked, "Can this wait until…(cough)…after I'm not half-dead? When I'm better, you can clout me a couple of times, if that will make feel better…"

"It won't! Nothing can! You…you…you brainless imbecile," she sobbed, grasping me tightly, crying hard on my chest, "I…I won't…let you do this again…I won't…" I struggled, using all my strength to move my arm, the one that wasn't almost pulverized, and I reached up and pressed Jaheira closer, trying my best to comfort her pain.

"Can you stand?" Keldorn asked me, "It isn't wise to stay here much longer, else some of Yaga-Shura's men might return."

"Don't worry," I assured him, trying to twist my head to survey the piles of corpses strewn all around, "They won't…be coming back…"

Getting back to full strength wasn't as terrible as I had first thought. Even as my consciousness had faded, my unnatural blood already began mending my wounds. Nothing extravagant, my regeneration is rather limited. For instance, if I have a shallow cut on my arm, it'll be gone in a few hours. But I was suffering from a little bit more than a wee little cut. My ribs felt better but still felt slightly askew, which in regards to ribs, isn't good.

My muscles were probably what hurt the most, it felt like a roaring fire all along my body. All that fighting I had done as the Slayer and against Yaga-Shura, I had drawn out an incredible stamina that allowed me to keep going, to prolong the fight. But my muscles were still mortal and incredible strain was put upon them. Now that it was all over, I was feeling every bit of their pain from all my acrobatic jumps and swinging that sword with such force and fury.

I was able to guide Jaheira's healing hands to the area's that were the most inflamed. Though throughout it she was very quiet, biting her lips as she worked. She was angry with me, to put it mildly, about many things. Me facing all the dangers of Yaga-Shura alone, using my Bhaalspawn powers to such destructive means…I knew it and it always made me feel guilty. Naturally I felt obligated to apologize to her, for all of these things, but I wasn't in any condition to muster a sincere apology. So I remained quiet, as did everyone else, keeping an eye open for trouble.

As I was finally able to pick myself off the ground, resting near the central tents, my ears caught the sounds of crunching footsteps…approaching. Everyone else heard it too, pulling weapons and bracing for what evil lay just around the bend. So naturally, we were surprised when Melissan stepped out from. She looked to be slinking, her eyes wide and fearful, at least until she saw us, sitting not far. That brightened her expression in a heartbeat.

"Thank the gods," she cried rushing towards us, "I heard the battle from afar, and saw countless soldiers running from here in panic…I didn't know what I expected to find." She halted in front of me, noting my injuries, taking an assessment of me, then glancing past, catching the sight of the prostrate and immobile Yaga-Shura. Her face froze in a look of astonishment, as she gently eased over, looking over his massive body tentatively. I was almost expecting her to give him a kick. When she was certain that he wasn't merely taking a nap, she turned back to me, her face beaming.

"Dietrich, you have done it! Yaga-Shura is dead!"

"Yeah," I could only grunt, not exactly feeling like leaping into the air for glee, "He's dead…but not quick enough it seems…" Her face fell at that, glancing over at the dark smoke rising from the ruined city. She sighed at that, her face growing tired.

"Yes, I only wish the city had been spared of this tragedy. But I believe Yaga-Shura got word that _you_ were in the city and was anxious to find you. He broke through the walls late last night, and his army thundered through the city killing and burning everything they encountered. All of them, the Bhaalspawn, the people…gone…"

"Yet here you stand…" Jaheira pointed out wryly, "As trapped as everyone, with no way out of the city, how did _you_ manage to survive? Are you certain other survivors didn't escape as well?"

"Yes…they are all gone, only a handful of common people were able to flee in the confusion. I was…powerless to stop it…I suppose Yaga-Shura could sense those with Bhaal's blood, and hunted them down. I myself was on the other side of the town when the walls were breached and I was able to shepherd as many civilians as I could through a grate leading to the sewer system. We hid there until the slaughter was over and we snuck out…" she sighed again, hanging her head. "All my work of helping the Bhaalspawn, yet I couldn't save them from death…"

"You did what you could," Keldorn assured her, "And at least they have been avenged by Yaga-Shura's death."

"Yes, you are right…" she glanced over at the fallen colossus, "Fiend, may you burn in Hell for your crimes…"

"So," said I, pushing myself forward, "Yaga-Shura is dead, but this threat isn't over yet. There are others, remember? The ones you wouldn't tell me about?"

"I know…I wished for you to save Saradush and now…It is not your fault Dietrich, I am certain you did all within your power to stop this. And I suppose in killing Yaga-Shura you have proven you commitment and trustworthiness to the situation…Very well, I shall tell you of what I know. Yes, Yaga-Shura has allies, four others, all of whom are the most powerful Bhaalspawn that walk the realms. And now, among the last. All of them together were called the Five, each with armies that laid waste to cities to hunt their siblings. I know of one vile murderess named Illasera, a ruthless hunter. It was she who relentlessly pursued me and my Bhaalspawn charges, forcing us to take shelter in Saradush. But I don't know where she vanished to once Yaga-Shura descended upon the city."

"As I thought. I know her, she came after me too, convinced she was going to take my head. She didn't. Though for someone who was supposed to be so fierce and terrible, she wasn't all that dangerous really…against me anyway. And I suppose the same could be said about Yaga-Shura too. Really big, but not that tough…"

Melissan looked at me skeptically, noting my bandages and lingering wounds. I rubbed the one across my chest.

"Don't read too much into these," I told her, "He just got one lucky shot in."

"In these circumstances, one may be enough."

"Yeah yeah…And the other three?"

"I know of two by name only, Abazigal and Sendai. They have committed themselves to hunting down the Children of Bhaal, ensuring they are the only one who remains. Their power together is vast…perhaps unstoppable."

"And the last?" Jaheira asked her, "Who is that?" Melissan didn't answer at first, hesitating for a moment.

"I…I'm afraid I am unsure. The final Bhaalspawn lingers in the shadows, and has yet to step into light. All I do know is the last commands an army as well, but from where, I know not." Somehow, I didn't quite believe that she was telling me the whole picture. I tickled the end of my nose as it was tingling and for the moment decided to count my blessings.

"At least we have two to go on. What can you tell us about them? What species they are or where do they camp? Do they share a base of operations?"

"No, they supposedly live in separate enclaves, far from one another. Joined together in their cause they may be, they are untrustworthy of one another, always suspecting treachery. And as for their race, I…don't know…"

"Are you certain?" Keldorn asked politely, as I doubt he'd ever say he thought someone was lying, but he was wise and no fool; and he noted her hesitation. Even a rock could see it.

"Yes, the information I have is sketchy I know, but it is all I have been able to gather. And my only advice is to defeat their combined power is to strike at them separately, as they are much too powerful to attack together."

"Well I kinda have to strike at them separately. If their enclaves are far apart, I can't attack one and the other at the same time." Melissan didn't appreciate my wit of the situation, her eyes narrowing, her jaw tightening. I didn't really care if I pissed her off. I saw how Jaheira didn't take a liking to her. Her presence was…false, and the promises of help she bought didn't do anything to ease me. But maybe it was just my soured outlook on the whole affair of the Bhaalspawn.

"In any case," she went on, "If you are fighting two such foes along with their armies, you will need a place to heal and rest. I have another ally that I know of, but I hadn't wished to involve him in these dark times, lest he or those around him suffer. But with a chance to end the bloodshed, there seems to be no choice. His name is Balthazar, a monk who runs a monastic order in the town of Amkethran. I'll place it's location on your map." With a quick scribble, she marked a position that seemed far away from…well, anything, to the southeast.

"Do not expect much," she went on, "it is little more than a village, mired deep in the desert. But is closer to the two enclaves that here, so it will make a suitable base for you."

"You speak of enclaves," Sarevok advanced a step or two, towering over the woman, "Yet you give no location to either and withhold information of our foes. Are you truly wishing for our success, or are you merely sending us on our way with dreams of victory, hoping we all perish?"

"You're questioning me?" Melissan's tone twisted into anger, "I'm telling you what I know, putting friends into harms ways, all for the sake of Faerun, and you believe I am lying to you?"

"He's got a point Melissan," I told her levelly, "Your information has a few too many convenient holes. If you knew the location of those enclaves and who the Bhaalspawn are, then you surely must know something useful about the armies stationed there, or their leader. But you claim you don't. Nor any information about their fifth member? Not even a name? If this person is really gathering an army, there should be some word about it. I don't suppose you'd care to restate some of you _helpful_ advice?"

"I…I…you…when…." she was spluttering, flustered and riled up significantly, and I was hoping for her to break down, and finally give us all the facts. "Amkethran," she spat out at last, "I'll speak to you again in Amkethran." And quick as a wink, she was covered in light, teleporting away. Rats.

Though even as she departed in a huff, the wind of her teleportation drifted under my nose, and it tingled again. As I took a whiff, I inhaled a smell. A familiar scent…I'd smelt it even before my Bhaalspawn enhanced nose. Pungent and unpleasant. And another one too, nearly overpowered by the first, I couldn't quite put my finger on…yet recognizable. Smelliness and evasiveness aside though, I had enough to worry about without phantom scents.

"Abazigal and Sendai…" I mused, staring off into the rising sun, "I don't really relish meeting them…"


	35. Cold Shoulder

**Chapter 35:** Cold Shoulder

I was well enough to walk after about an hour more of resting, though I was still a bit wobbly. I probably should have rested a bit longer, or at least walked with a walking stick for a little bit, but the last thing I needed was to look weakened, doubly do if say hired assassins or crazed Bhaalspawn came leaping out of the bushes to kill me. So I stumbled along, concentrating my attention on my feet, making them move correctly and not trip on one another.

Examining our map gave us a general idea as to where this town of Amkethran was, but getting to it didn't look as easy. The village was in the desert to the southeast and just heading in a straight line wasn't going to work, due to mountainous terrain. We'd have to head south from the ruins of Saradush, entering a desert. From there, we would come across an oasis, which would have us shift to the east. It looked to be maybe a day and a half walk, but where deserts are concerned, that amounted to more like four or five days. At least it would _feel_ that long, even if it actually wasn't. Deserts must have some sort of a time paradox about them or something.

My only salvation to this unsavory journey was that, unlike most travelers, I had a different dimension to retreat to during the worst parts of the day, a place where no assassins or creepy monsters looking for dinner could follow. That made the prospect sound a bit better.

Before we left, we scoured Yaga-Shura's vast camp, finding enough rations to let us travel to the end of the world and back, and I stuffed them into my Bag of Holding. Some nice magic weapons and plain treasure were littered about the numerous tents, but I wasn't really interested. The only weapon of note was Yaga-Shura's hammer, the one that had almost made a permanent imprint on my body.

It was heavily enchanted, made of a dark steel and had a fine look about it. But it was an enormous hammer, bigger than me really…not quite my style. And as for treasure, I had enough gold and gems and a wide assortment of other valuables tucked away all across Faerun and in my little bag. In general, my own horde would have impressed any dragon. So with sufficient supplies, we were on our way.

Leaving the smell of fire, blood, and murder behind, we headed south. The area was wooded but not densely, and the further we went, the sparser the trees got, until we reached the open expanse of the wastelands. I never liked deserts. Slogging through sand was tiresome, having to walk stiffly, hoisting your legs up over and over. Especially when one is still sore from having brushed close to death only a half a day before.

The silence was thick amongst the group. Yoshimo was ahead with Minsc, who was fussing at Boo, trying to talk with him and keep him out of the sun. I suppose Yoshimo found watching Minsc to be entertaining. Indeed, I prefer that show to many of the greatest of plays. Sarevok also strode ahead, soundless save his clanking armor, his unwavering unmoving expression was trained to the front, and he looked utterly determined to march across that desert without being overwhelmed by the heat. Keldorn was only a bit ahead of me and just knowing the kind of man he was, he was wearing a deep scowl on his countenance, his thoughts turned inward, perhaps about the Bhaalspawn, perhaps about me, or perhaps some other topic that wasn't about half-gods sowing untold amounts of devastation.

And…

I sighed inwardly, glancing back at Jaheira. Her expression was vacant and though she stared forward, she didn't look at me. That told me how upset she was. Normally she walked beside me, her steps falling with mine, and it soothed me. Strange I know, but to walk side by side with her was one of the few comforts I felt anymore, and with it gone, I felt a pang of loneliness.

Not to mention the stab of pain that I felt which accompanied the woman I love being furious with me. Her face didn't betray the boiling anger, but it was there. I knew I had a lot to answer for and I wasn't going to take pleasure in our next conversation. Regardless, though I was feeling better; still a fair amount of pain coursing through my body, I knew the pain in my heart wasn't going to heal like the others. Not unless I did something about it.

Very gradually, I slowed up my pace by a half step, gently easing back and soon we were next to one another. Despite my close proximity, she still didn't acknowledge my presence, nor would she I knew; I would have to take the initiative to mend our problems.

"Can we…uh…talk?"

"I am not much in the mood to speak to you…" that made me winch, I hadn't heard such bitterness from her since Khalid's murder. But I had ridden through those turbulent times, and I did not give up easily. Actually, I've _never_ given up. I guess I've never been smart enough to…

"I really think we _should_ talk," I insisted nudgingly, "it's…important." She grunted at that, but she shrugged.

"Very well. What do you want?" I almost shivered at her cold tone, it flowing like a chilled river packed with ice fragments. Getting her to cool off was going to take some work, I knew.

"Well," I began, wondering how I was going to apologize for all my transgressions, "I guess I want to say…"

"No," she cut me off, stopping and whirling to face me, antagonism beginning to manifest itself on her lovely half-elven features, "There is something _I_ want to say first. Have I been blind this whole time or have you always been so heartless? Never before have I thought you to be capable of inflicting such terrible wounds upon someone's heart."

"You know I'd never do something like that."

"No? I thought you were _dead_ Dietrich! Not hurt, not in trouble, but dead! That life had ceased to flow through you and that you were gone, taken from me forever, just as Khalid was! Do you have any idea what it feels like see the mangled form of someone you deeply care about, lying before you, devoid of life?"

"Actually yes. When you were struck by the fire giant in that godforsaken temple, I thought I had lost you, so I know precisely what you're talking about."

"And yet you would consciously inflict that upon someone you loved? I have already suffered that pain, and just as I was beginning to recover, you do _this_…continue with your mad scheme when you knew my feelings would be torn apart because of it?"

"Well, I wasn't exactly planning on nearly getting killed…"

"Exactly! But it _did_ nearly happen! I know you are reckless at times," she went on, stalking forward again, her words flowing faster and angrier, "And you often have poor judgment, but I am disappointed in seeing you behave so. Being so cavalier with your own life, despite your importance, it is negligent of you, more so than I thought even you were capable of."

"To be fair," I told her, "It isn't like I'm the only person who has done something like this."

"Perhaps, but name someone who is related to this particular situation that has behaved in such a way, and then I may understand better."

"Well…_you_ for instance." She stopped dead at that, whirling about once more.

"What rubbish, I do not have the same streak of irresponsibility as you. When have I done something so selfish and unfeeling? You are speaking nonsense now."

"Really," I mused, "What about the Harpers? Dermin and his friends. You were going against them because you saw the good in me. And instead of facing things together, like promises of execution or a lifetime of being hounded by them, you chose to take all the responsibilities yourself, vanishing in the middle of the night, leaving naught but a letter saying you were going to face whatever punishment awaited you." She fell silent, their being few ways to deny that.

"I…I suppose that is true…but there wasn't any danger, they were not real Harpers anyway."

"Does that really matter?" I retorted, "They promised you death and you went on your own fully prepared to accept that, just to spare me of being dragged further into that situation, which might have involved my own death or imprisonment. _You_ made the decision to face it alone, just as I did."

"You speak the truth," she admitted slowly, her expression softening. But then, it hardened once more, "But that still does not justify using the dark evil inside of you to such ends! Instead of constructing a safe plan or strategy that would safely lead to Yaga-Shura's downfall, you put some…some misguided lust of arrogance at the forefront, risking your life wastefully in the process. And for what? The glory of defeating him single-handedly? Is your pride so massive that you needed to prove to the world how powerful you are?"

Her words snapped tighter than a steel bear trap, and it stung deep.

"You know," said I, somewhat disconsolate, "It really hurts to hear you think I've fallen to so far in such a short amount of time. Do you _really_ believe that it was my Bhaal blood that drove me to do what I did?" My straight tone caught her by surprise and she fumbled for an answer.

"I…well, I don't…"

"And it wasn't my arrogance nor my pride that compelled my actions either."

"Then what?" she pushed, "What other reason could there be to willingly allow such a monstrous power to talk hold of your very soul?" I could tell she didn't believe me. I sighed inside and out before glancing over my shoulder. We had walked quite a ways, yet I could still see the black clouds of destruction, hovering over the ruins of a once prosperous city.

"It's hard to understand. But…I was charged with protecting that city, to liberate it from destruction. And I tried, as you know, I went to such lengths to succeed. Yet when I returned, I found it razed to the earth, nothing left but burning wreckage and the screams of the people. The people that had hopes of being rescued and saved. You can't imagine how much knowing that tore me up."

"As Melissan said, it is no fault of yours that the city fell. Yaga-Shura was the killer, not you."

"I know, but that's not the point. I…I wanted to avenge them…No, I _needed_ to avenge them, for failing. And for being a part of this whole fiasco in the first place. I had to at least try and make up for it all…But I was facing down an army and I alone or the six of us couldn't have done it. I didn't use that creature just to butcher everything and everyone I could. I used it see justice was done. After all, the kingdom of Tythyr had abandoned the city and if their own king and queen couldn't stop Yaga-Shura, than who else would there be? I did what I did to ensure that his mad scheme was finished once and for all, to avenge all those people, including the ones that came before Saradush. I know harnessing that evil jeopardizes my soul, but it was either that or let the slaughter continue. I stand by my choice."

Jaheira was quiet and didn't retort to my reason. Her pensive manner was certainly better than her fiery resentment. After a deliberating silence, she spoke, her voice calm and soothing, the anger having dissipated.

"I believe I understand. But Dietrich, why wouldn't you let us help you…You must _know_ that each of us would have done our very utmost to assist you?"

"I thought on it, but I decided that the risk was too much. Besides, _I_ failed, not all of you. _I_ failed and _I_ had to set things right. And a few more wouldn't have made a difference. It was my task to do alone."

"Why do you try and always shoulder the world alone, you self-righteous ass?" she asked, taking hold of my hand. She pulled me close before placing a delicate kiss on my lips.

"I...I'm sorry, for everything I said, I know I am not being fair…With everything weighting on your mind recently…You don't need added stress with me behaving like a spoiled child. It's just…" she sighed, stepping forward and into my arms, pressing against me, "To watch you being consumed…from the inside out by a terrible affliction that I am powerless to stop. I could do nothing to stop Khalid's death but I won't stand by and watch your own. Not when I might have the ability to save you." I hugged her tighter, finding her warmth reassuring.

"Jaheira, just having you close to me is all the saving I need."

"I do nothing. I merely follow you about, adding my small contribution when and where I can. I wish there was someway that I could more actively help you instead of sitting helplessly."

"Well if that's what you want, then I'll make a deal with you," I said with a grin, "If you'll forgive me, then I'll swear never to call that power to the surface ever again, and to fight it tooth and nail whenever it tries to emerge." She looked up at me, skeptically, her face firm and I saw the doubt lingering.

"Do not be so light-hearted with making such a vow," she warned, "Things may only grow more difficult from here on. What if another situation arises that you need to call that evil forth? For whatever purpose or cause?" I was quiet, as I didn't want to make another promise that I would break. I'd made enough of those in my life and I wanted so badly to make a pledge I could keep.

"Then," I answered, carefully, doing my best to make the conviction to myself and not let go, "I suppose I had no choice but to find another way out. Do we have a deal?" She thought on it, looking me over very suspiciously, perhaps expecting to find a trace of emotion in my face or eye that wasn't completely truthful. I knew in my own heart she wouldn't find it. I knew all too well that losing control of my Bhaal blood was driving me closer and closer to that what I hated, and the thought of becoming like Bhaal, or worse…Bhaal himself, was just unpleasant. I had no problem with not using the darkness within me again, despite its tremendous power and fury…

Finally, she reached up and kissed me gently. I kissed back, drawing her close.

"Deal." We hugged once more, before jogging to catch up with the group, though I still felt a persistent trace of uncertainty that just wouldn't leave me alone.

_I certainly hope this Abazigal and Sendai are easier than this,_ I thought…


	36. Legal Problems

**Chapter 36: **Legal Problems

"Halt villain, in the name of Tethyrian law!"

"Ugh…" I groaned, "…Great…"

It wasn't long before the stretch of sand opened up before us, signaling the start of our desert tromping. I've traipsed across worse deserts but it hadn't been any picnic. Hot days of burning stinging winds and nights of abnormally chilly temperatures. I swear, there is not a single redeeming quality to these barren tracks of sand.

So, the oasis was a welcome sight as it appeared before us, just as the sun was setting; a cluster of large rocks, dotted with trees and the friendly glimmer of pools of water. The desert had been filled with that gritty harsh sand, the really big chunky kind and I felt that my boots were filled with a generous amount of it, making walking a throbbing chore. I could have dumped it out, sure, but it would have been right back again five minutes later. But the oasis was different, with white thin sand, the sort that ran through your fingers like sparkling liquid.

It was a relaxing and peaceful place…If not for the entire battalion of armed guards waiting there.

As we crossed the first line of trees, we saw the desert sanctuary was not unoccupied. Nearly forty or fifty men and women were milling about, most armed heavily, covered in armor plates and chain. I recognized them swiftly, for they wore the symbol of the kingdom of Tythyr, the same as many of the defenders in Saradush had worn. I reasoned that they might have been the relief force, finally dispatched to assist Saradush in their hour of need. I quickly scratched that idea when I saw that there weren't nearly enough of them to properly take on such a daunting task.

Also, when we came trudging in from the twilight, they all turned to face us, rising up and drawing steel. They rapidly formed a study line in front of us, barring advancement, and then yelled out the whole "Halt villain" thing. I knew this wasn't going to end well.

"Can I…help you gentlemen?" I asked lightly, hoping this was a simple misunderstanding.

From out of their ranks stepped a man with the presence and aura of authority, the leader no doubt. He was an older man, though not quite as grizzled or aged as Keldorn, but had graying hair, a hard-lined face that had no doubt experienced much, firm dark eyes that were unwavering, and a walk of man who had no fear. He approached but didn't leave the ranks of his men too far behind, staring directly at me. Looks like I was going to be the star of the show again…

"Dietrich Vegaz I presume?" he demanded in a level crisp tone. I bowed, despite knowing that he calling my name was likely not to be a good thing.

"At your service," I answered politely.

"As I surmised. Very well, throw down your weapons and come peacefully. I hereby place you under arrest in the name of the King and Queen of Tythyr. You have this one opportunity to come quietly or else I will have no recourse but to follow through with the order of your execution."

"I see…and…who are you again?"

"I am General Jamis Tombelthen, representative of his majesties of Tythyr, dispatched to see justice is dealt to enemies of the crown. You have certainly caused enough damage to our kingdom and I am to see your offenses are accounted for."

"And what exactly _are_ my offenses?"

"You are well-known and well-feared Child of Bhaal who has brought nothing but ruin and strife to our kingdom and by order of the King and Queen you are to be brought to answer for your crimes. Either through a trial or by your execution now."

"What foolishness," Jaheira snapped, "You give no reasons except that he is a Bhaalspawn. What exactly are these _crimes_ you are babbling about? We have been in this kingdom for a few weeks only."

"Yet long enough to sow chaos and destroy the city of Saradush. We had heard the town had been besieged by a Bhaalspawn and received word only a day ago that the town was leveled. And…" he glared at me coldly, "The dreaded Terror of the Sword Coast had been seen near the city limits. It was deemed that you are the vile culprit."

"One moment my good sir," Yoshimo interjected him with a sly grin, "You believe that my esteemed friend here is the one that turned Saradush into a pile of rubble? I think there may have been some misunderstanding…"

"These are the facts that we have and my lord and lady had us act upon them, to intercept this murderer before another slaughter ensued."

"If slaughter is what you hope to avoid," Sarevok warned them with his dark voice, though there was a hint of anticipation mixed in, "then you had best leave now. If he did indeed destroy a city as you delude yourselves into believing, then did you hope to subdue him with this ragtag militia you have assembled? You truly underestimate the power and fury that _is_ the blood of Bhaal, fool." This made the general's face scrunch up and I all but felt a shiver of cold dread ripple throughout the troops gather behind him. I stepped forward, in front of my behemoth brother.

"Sarevok," I shushed, "You're not exactly helping my defense case here with that. Can I handle this please?" He glanced between the mass of soldiers, who now were looking more frightened at his words, before waving a hand.

"As you wish brother. But do not say I did not warn them." I turned back to Jamis Tombelthen.

"I'm sorry you and your platoon had to march all the way out here, but I'm afraid you have the wrong Bhaalspawn. Saradush wasn't destroyed by my hand." The general stared at me hard, before sighing.

"Does this mean that you will not surrender?" This surprised me, as I had thought telling him of his error would get me out of this.

"What…wait, didn't you hear what I just said? You have the wrong person. The real killer…" Jamis cut me off with his own gruff tone.

"Then I have no choice. Dietrich Vegaz, I hereby sentence you to death for your foul transgressions. May the gods have mercy upon your tainted soul!"

So saying, the good general drew his sword and dashed forward, his blade held high and came crashing down at my unprotected head. Though he was quick and he was somewhat dishonorably trying to take me out swiftly, I didn't die. Speed was my forte and the moment he made his move, I was already prepared.

Suddenly the Equalizer was there, holding his mighty swing at bay only inches above my skull. A flash later, up came the Celestial Fury, though the blade itself was turned down and I jolted his hand with a sharp blow from its hilt, the grip of his own blade lost. Finishing things, I darted in, my foot sweeping the ground and his feet fell out from under him as he clatter to the ground on his back, knocking his wind out. Before he could recover, my katana was down, resting oh so lightly on the exposed part of his neck.

"My," I mused looking down at him, "You're just itching to execute me aren't you?"

"Kill me," Jamis looked up coldly, knowing his own defeat had been swift and…well, easy, "But know my men will not surrender if I die. They will oppose you to the very last."

"They may try if they wish," Sarevok invited, scanning their ranks with a sneer, "But they had best not expect to walk away with their lives. Our task far transcends your petty legal affairs. If you insist in getting in our way, then you will be…" he lifted his hand, resting it on the crimson hilt of his sword, "Removed…"

"SAREVOK!" I thundered, my shout making the uneasy soldiers jump in surprise, "Will you knock it off? I'm trying to avoid bloodshed here, so kindly quit trying to pick a fight with the whole damn world, will you?" He stood still, and finally removed his hand from his blade and was silent. I looked back down at the somewhat wrathful general.

"Alright Jamis, let's get a few things cleared up here. First, as I said just before you tried to cleave my head in half, I _didn't_ destroy Saradush. Do you see an army behind me? Are you claiming that me and five other people annihilated an entire city? That _can't_ make sense to you. Also, you needn't search for the real killer; I already dealt with him myself. And lastly, I'm _not_ going to kill you. Despite you trying to cut my head off, I have no real reason and certainly no desire to do so." And with that, my sword was removed and I gracefully slid both my blades back into their respective sheathes. The general sat up, rubbing his neck, before hoisting himself to his feet once again.

"And by what cause do I have to believe this? Your word? Such assurances do not amount to much, especially from a Bhaalspawn…"

"There are no lies here and a great mistake you have made, hasty general," Minsc told him sternly, "Dorrac is not the vile villain of great evil that you seek! Ask Boo and he will tell you all about the great and smell fire giant called Yaga-Shura. He and his foul hearts are the ones who killed all the nice people! And we have seen his butt kicked severely for being so evil! Boo even jumped up and down on him just to be extra sure; and he is most certainly dead! Minsc's friend Dessial is a most valiant of hero, who only does good and righteous bad guy stomping!"

"I have no reason to believe anything _you_ claim either," Jamis grunted, "You are his most trusted lackeys and are naturally going to support whatever your leader claims."

"And what of me then?" Keldorn asked him, stepping forward to the front now, scanning all the men assembled with his steadfast gaze. "I am Keldorn Firecam, faithful servant of Torm and a loyal member of the Most Noble Order of the Radiant Heart. Am I a simple lackey as well, following evil in murdering innocents and demolishing cities?" It was quite a marvel to watch, the general's face. His suspicion and contempt melted as he stared at Keldorn in perhaps awe, who always seemed to be shining with a inner radiance. It would have been impossible to say that he had been lying as well.

"I…I am…I must apologize Sir Keldorn…But…But…I am at a loss as to what I should think. I do not doubt you, your reputation as a legendary champion of good is undeniable, yet you travel with…well…a Bhaalspawn and a dangerous one at that. Things are growing more steadily more complicated than I had imagined."

"Indeed. Perhaps if I explain the situation in full, you and your lord and lady will understand the circumstances around us better…"

"Speak on then, I wish to know what truly befell our city…"

---

---

---

"Yaga-Shura," General Jamis mulled over the story, "And you are certain he is…"

"Half of his head was blasted off by lightning," I assured him, "his fire giant elite are slain and his mercenary thugs have scattered to the four points of the compass. He is a threat to no one anymore." He nodded, his eyes distant, his mind surely reeling at all he had heard.

A temporary cease fire occurred, the two older men sitting down and letting the tale be told. The general's men stood by, nervous but listening just as intently as their leader. The story that we had gone through only a day ago told by Keldorn did much to put Jamis at ease, though I have to say I was a bit miffed about it. I had said the same thing earlier, yet he hadn't listened. I guess a Bhaalspawn's credibility wasn't worth much these days. Especially when regarded next to a paladin's. Regardless, the general rose, before facing me again, bowing his head.

"I then must apologize to you Dietrich for our rashness. I personally had no idea what befell our city or who was to blame yet when one receives an order from their king and queen, one does not refuse."

"There order was nothing but their fear controlling them," Jaheira informed him, "They wish to execute him not because of what he had supposedly done, but merely because of what he is. A Bhaalspawn, and in this time of crisis they feel that if all of them were dead, then it might end their suffering."

"Mayhaps, but in truth, is that not so? If the situation is allowed to escalate, there can only be more disasters like Saradush. That is why, unfortunately, Dietrich, I must once again ask you to surrender to me and come with us."

"What?!" Jaheira barked out, "You heard the account yourself, yet you still cling to your duties like some mindless…"

"I am sorry," Jamis interrupted her, "But despite all the good he has done, it still sounds like Dietrich was a cause of Saradush's destruction nonetheless. Being a Bhaalspawn and being inside caused Yaga-Shura's army to descend in the first place. And who's to say it doesn't happen again, some other Bhaalspawn and their army following you, leaving whatever lies in their path in ruins?"

"And that's _my_ fault?" I was beginning to see red at this nonsense, "I'm the only one around here who has the backbone to stand and fight these Bhaalspawn, plus I did my best to save _your_ city, whilst your king and queen abandoned it."

"The King and Queen are preoccupied by riots in Myratma, as well as cunning opportunists who seek to invade our eastern border, plotting to cause discord in our land. Our forces are engaged in a stand-off, and moving them now could cause our front to crumble."

"I see, so since they didn't lift a finger in saving their own city, they instead decide to come after me, just because I have an indirect tie to its eradication. Even after _I_ killed the real offender?"

"Such is the way of weak men," Sarevok told me, "If there is no one to blame for all the troubles that befall them, condemning an innocent party is just as good. The mob demands a sacrifice; one they can believe is responsible for their suffering, one whose death will make them more secure and feel better. And no doubt the people of Tythyr call for blood."

"It is true," the general agreed, "Someone must be made to pay for this crime, else the king and queen lose the faith of the people. The anarchy that could follow would be disastrous."

"Such justice," Jaheira snorted, "Grabbing the only person left to be your scapegoat, merely to keep the people happy. That is a mockery of all things that are good and just."

"His cause _is_ a noble one," Keldorn insisted, "Else I would not have been apart of his group. We seek to put an end to this whole matter once and for all. Surely that is enough to convince you of our intentions?"

The arguing went on between Jamis and my group, whilst I myself stood quietly, easing my own rising temper. I wasn't angry with Jamis though, nor with his rash lord and lady…no, I was angry with myself and with all the other Bhaalspawn that had turned the world into such a panicked and fearful place. And of course, Bhaal himself. Damn him for causing all of this in the first place. And though I wasn't the evil monster that many portrayed me to be, I certainly was not a submissive pushover either.

"Well then…" said I, very simply, "My answer is no."

"What?"

"You heard me general. I'm not going with you. I have work to be doing; there are three other members of the Five out there and I need to find them and stop them."

"I cannot allow that. I have you here and I must contain you and bring you back to the capital to face judgment. To merely let you escape now would be a grave violation of my orders." I stepped forward, looking him dead in the face.

"You know, I don't really like resorting to threats general, but don't forget that not but a day ago I single-handedly tore apart an entire army consisting of fire giants and thugs whose numbers were easily one hundred times what you have here. I suspect you don't wish to see _how_ I was able to do that…"

He stared back and deep in those dark brown eyes I saw a spark of fear. If things had been different and I was the murderer that I had been portrayed as, he'd have been dead the moment he challenged me. But I wasn't and never would be, but I wasn't interested in going to jail for some half-cocked reason. If I was incarcerated, then the three remaining Bhaalspawn would be free to strengthen their armies and bring more death across the land. And of course, the worse the damage, my trial, so called, would become more and more of a farce.

With a shrug I walked past him, waving at my comrades to follow. They did and we started forward. As I thought, Jamis didn't try and stop us. He knew I had a point, and…hopefully, he knew that we were right and capturing me wouldn't end things. As I approached all of his men, they began to back down, opening a path for us. We had almost cleared their ranks when I paused, looking back at the slumped shoulders of General Jamis Tombelthan; undoubtedly feeling dejected knowing he had failed his mission.

"If you are wondering what to tell your king and queen about this encounter," I called back, "tell them that I am truly sorry that this whole mess is unfolding in their kingdom. It wasn't my idea, I'll tell you that. And…" I glanced among all the men in Jamis's unit, "If they really want all this madness to stop, then they should let me go about my business, instead of sending troops they _could_ have used at Saradush after me. My death or trial isn't going to solve this problem, so let me end this as it needs to be ended. Between us Bhaalspawn…"


	37. Dangerous Eyes

**Chapter 37:** Dangerous Eyes

As soon as we had cleared the oasis, I immediately warped us back to my plane. We had been walking all day and had been looking forward to resting in the oasis, but the encounter with the good general had put that plan on hold. I was glad I had talked us out of a confrontation. Killing a band of murderous bandits intent of stealing our money and lives was one thing but to needlessly slaughter frightened men and women who were merely doing what they thought was right was plain wrong.

Regardless, I didn't want to risk them having a change of heart in the middle of the night and decide to pursue us. In my sanctuary, no one could follow us and with hostile enemies nearby, it seemed a wise choice.

I knew Jaheira was disappointed by this. Druid she might have been, she also had no real liking of deserts, the scarce vegetation and lacking the soothing fall of rain; it _was_ nature, she claimed but it reminded her too much of death. And resting in a shady vibrant oasis was something she would have enjoyed; a peaceful cool place to sleep under the clear sky. But turbulent times called for compromising measures. Besides, I still had something tucked away anyway.

We returned to my plane, stepping through the portal, its artificial glow comforting, but only to a certain degree. No matter what form I made it into, it would always have that lingering trace of the abyss that it was. Cespenar was right there to greet us, eager to check on my well-being and always willing and able to assist us anyway he could. I couldn't think of anything save ensuring my compatriots needs, such as food and drink. No sooner had I said it, he winked out of existence, only to come through the door that led to my _"inns"_ kitchen, informing us of dinner, or whatever meal we call it. On our time schedule, things change rapidly.

It was actually the first time that I had eaten anything in my pocket plane world. I had been too apprehensive of Cespenar's cooking that I had stuck with the basic sort of rations that we use on long stretches of travel. I mean, an Imp from Hell cooking? That seemed a good warning of an upset stomach and a night of heaving my insides out.

I decided to swallow my fear and eat; after all, if I could take a fire giant and his enormous band of cronies on all by myself, then surely I could muster the courage to sample unknown food prepared by an imp in a sub-plane of Hell. As it turned out, it was pretty good. I mean, the bread was bit hard and the meat a little dry, but it tasted far better than anything I had eaten in days. Those preserved rations tasted like wood…

With the safety of my plane and good food, we all loosened up, forgetting that I was a wanted fugitive and the rest of the world was tearing itself apart. Though the hour grew late and everyone rose to turn in, another day of madness was soon to follow. I reached out and wrapping my hand around Jaheira, pulling her close and giving her a wink when she looked my way.

I bid everyone else goodnight and with my arm around her waist; I led Jaheira towards the room of trees that I had used my power to construct for her. Stepping inside we felt a wave of humidity wash over us, the lush setting, modeled after jungles and forests that I had visited, was real down to the buzzing of insects and small creeks splashing along.

"I know it's not the real world," I apologized to her, casting my hand about, "But staying out there seemed too risky. So I hope it will suffice." She reached around and drew me close to her.

"I could sleep in a decaying cesspool of a city, so long as you are with me." She held me tighter, and I felt a slight stab of pain in my body, causing me to unconsciously wince. She felt it, and stepped back. "What is it?"

"Nothing," I assured her, rolling a stiff shoulder, "Just a little sore that's all…"

"After such injuries, I am not surprised. I had better take a look at you again. Disrobe and I'll examine you."

"Jaheira, no really, I'm alright, I'm just…"

"Do you wish there to be any lasting damage?" she insisted, even as she was pulling my cloak off, "Then get undressed and let me look you over."

"Can't wait for me to get out of them again?" I grinned as I was loosening my simple clothes and sliding them to the floor.

She rolled her eyes but smiled anyway as she instructed me to lie down. I did, and as she ran her hands over me, checking my vitals, I already began to feel better. As I had surmised, I was healed up, save a few lingering aches here and there, something that should be gone after a good nights rest. If I could ever get one.

"It seems you are alright," she concluded, "…that's good…" As I sat up, I saw that Jaheira was loosening her belt and blouse. In one smooth motion, she slid out of her clothes, discarding them next to mine.

"Is this also part of the checkup?" I asked jokingly, thoroughly enjoying my doctor's appointment. She scoffed.

"Hardly. _You_ are filthy…before we do _anything_, we must bathe and wash all of the foulness off of you. Come." I sighed but wasn't exactly crushed. A bath did sound good. I was still covered with the blood of my previous battle, plus dirt, sweat, and the gods only knew what else.

Thanks to my power over the world around me, one quick concentrating thought and the rushing creeks and ponds transformed in to pools of warm water, creating my own personal hot springs. The humid mist crept over us, making our skin tingle and we stepped into the bath together. It felt delicious to feel that warm clean water envelop me; those pains that I thought sleep would cure winked out of existence faster than a candle in a rainstorm. Furthermore, I felt the worries and stresses melt off of me too, fading into the obscurity of the water.

Jaheira helped scrub off all the grim that was caked on my skin, and I was amazed to see my normal skin tone emerge. I had been traveling and battling so long, I had an almost constant layer of dirt over me at all times, changing my color to a darker hue. Though she didn't need it as I had, I insisted that I help Jaheira wash too, as she had a fair amount of my own blood on her. We stayed in longer than necessary, not wanting to leave but we knew that too much soaking would be counterproductive so we both reluctantly rose and sloshed out.

The moisture gleamed on her bronze skin as she stepped onto the bank, shaking her hair out, droplets tumbling every which way. She stretched out in the grass under the shade of a great tree and as I gazed upon her perfect form, I was reminded of a nymph or dryad, a gorgeous being that was one with nature. So peaceful…so beautiful…

After a moment, she lifted her head and her eyes looked into mine.

"And now," she invited with a teasing smile, "_You_ come here…"

---

---

---

"It would seem Melissan was not exaggerating about this place," Yoshimo commented looking down at the town that lay before us. He wasn't kidding. It was hardly a town, maybe three buildings of wood while all the other dwellings looked to be carved out of the rocks of the cliffside. Several were stacked on top of each other, so they reached up fairly high; some crude steps leading to some, though most had rickety ladders leading up to the highest. The whole town was blowing with dust and looked so parched and sunbaked, I wondered how anyone could survive out here.

"Yes," Jaheira concurred, now stretching an arm out to point, "And I believe that is our destination." Sitting right next to the flimsy little village was a near monolithic structure, also carved and chiseled out of the abundant rocks. It was a building of rounded roofs and daunting presence. A monastery, according to Melissan, though a fortress would probably be a more accurate description, what with the towering walls and heavy duty iron gate surrounding it. I'd never been to a monastery, though Candlekeep had monks and acolytes walking the halls of the great library, searching for whatever elusive tome evaded them, so perhaps it was similar. Though this place looked nothing like Candlekeep.

"Ah such a grand monastery," Yoshimo exclaimed, looking up at the massive stone structure as we passed, "Built from the rock itself no less, such an impressive feat. And who knows what it may look like on the inside?"

"Are you so interested in the architecture I wonder," Keldorn inquired, "Or perhaps the possible valuable contents within its walls?"

"Perhaps both, but in your presence Sir Keldorn, my only interest is our pressing mission that requires all of our attention."

"Indeed."

As we entered the village, the main path wound close to the monastery gates, large iron bars that looked thick and sturdy enough to resist a battering ram, and saw five people standing out front. Three men and two women, all dressed in identical garb, dully colored tunics of simple design, shirts and pants, with basic boots and a black belt around the waist. The men's heads were shaved completely bald and what hair the women had was trimmed and short. They stood, like figures of stone, hands behind their back at attention, staring off vacantly. Though as I approached, the closet monk, a man with a rather unsightly wart on the tip of his nose, turned and held out a hand.

"You!" he cried out, stepping from his post, "Hold where you stand!" I paused in my steps as he stalked over to me. I say stalked because his walk was incredibly stiff-legged, as if he was unable to bend his knees. He paused, squinting and scrutinized me. Finally, he pulled back.

"You are the one Balthazar expects correct?" he barked at me. Now I suppose there was always a chance that I _wasn't_ in fact the person he spoke of, as it was a rather vague description. For all I knew, this Balthazar received many visitors. But I knew also that Melissan had told me to come here to meet this man, and so remote and isolated as the town was, I could think of no one else who would come out this far, so I nodded.

"Yes, my name is…"

"Melissan sent you yes?"

"Actually yes, she…"

"As I surmised. Come, Balthazar wishes to speak to you."

"Alright, but is…"

"Any questions you might have may be directed to Balthazar. Come!"

"Will you please stop…"

"You!" the guard pointed a jabbing finger at another monk guarding the entrance, "Inform Lord Balthazar that the contact has arrived! Swiftly now!" The monk gave a bow and went dashing off down the street. I was perplexed as he had been standing right next to the gate, so why not just go in that way?

"The rest of you," the yelling monk cried out, waving a hand at his cohorts, "At attention and no mistakes in front of our master." They murmured an ineligible chant and nodded.

"Do you have to shout _everything_?" I asked him, relieved to finally get a complete sentence out of my mouth.

He did not answer me, his gaze focused on the massive iron gate leading into the great stone structure. A few moments of waiting and with the rattle of chains and the grating moan of moving iron, the gates began to open.

"Gather your wits," the monk instructed us with his barking commands, "Balthazar comes!"

At this, I was unconsciously prompted to dust off my cloak and straighten it. I wasn't worried about appearances and surely one would expect someone fresh from the desert to be windblown and dusty, yet I always remembered Gorion saying to look your best when meeting important people. I suppose he would have been proud to see that his lesson was being taken to heart.

With a resounding clang, the iron bars opened completely and four monks promptly exited the great gate, they wearing darker colored tunics than the rest, with a stripe of red along the legs and arms. They were standing on all side of another man, escorting him out. And as this figure came gently shuffling out of the darkness of the archway, I felt my blood chill and my sense of danger sounded like thunder.

Balthazar was taller than I, though dwarfed by Sarevok in terms of height and girth, as he was far skinnier, more so than even I. He wore a heavy almond colored coat…or robe, it was an unusual garment, made of hardened leather and buckled in the front in several place, draping down and covering his whole body, as well as reaching up to protect his neck. His hands were encased in maroon leather gloves which hung by his side and he wore simple thatched sandals on his feet. His face though…his face was almost too complicated to describe.

As far as features go, his were fairly basic; like the other monks his hair was shaved, a tattoo across his forehead, a cross I believe, and a small golden stud had been placed into the lobe of his left ear.

His eyes weren't quite so simple. In fact, his eyes…they were like mine…gray. But my eyes were like silver, with a vivacious gleam that gave a lustrous shine to them. But his? No…pallid and cold, dull as a grimy spoon. But deep…his eyes were deeper than any I had seen. The oceans around Faerun might very well have been puddles next to his penetrating gaze. They pierced you, relentlessly delving deep inside, discovering all your secrets, desires, and thoughts… Calculating and dominating, they were the eyes of no mere man but a driving force of a person.

But as imposing as they were, I didn't waver and stood firm before his approach. I won't deny however that I was required to summon up significant will power to stand straight before him, as I felt like shrinking away. And harder still was to stare into those eyes unflinchingly, ignoring the shrill voice that warned me to looking away. But no, I wouldn't. A lesson in the world I had learned was it was a sign of weakness is to avert your gaze from someone.

If my own significant Bhaalspawn presence did anything to unnerve him, he gave no outward signs, his face completely somber, betraying no emotion or thought. A mask of pure emptiness. Reflected to no end in his solemn mellow voice.

"Ah…the long awaited Bhaalspawn has at last arrived. I have been waiting…"

"Dietrich Vegaz," I introduced myself bowing, though my courtesy seemed wasted on the man's frigid nature, as he waved a gloved hand, the leather of his attire creaking at his motion.

"Yes, I know well enough as to who you are. And I am Balthazar, head of this monastic order and the guardian and overseer of the town of Amkethran, though that title is hardly official. Melissan preceded you and informed me of your arrival, leaving you a map to these…enclaves and…"

"Hold on," I interrupted, trying to ignore those dictating eyes narrowing, "You mean she's not even here to meet me? Where is she?"

"I know not, nor do I care. She came, delivered this map along with the instructions that I was to give it to you, and point you on your way. She departed soon after, her destination or purpose unknown."

"Well…that's great…She just tells me what to do and sends me on my merry little way…" I would have sulked maybe, but why did I care about Melissan? I didn't have a real liking for her and it's not as though I needed her to guide me step by step through this whole ordeal. It wasn't my first quest after all.

"Melissan has vouched for you," Balthazar continued, "and it is by that alone that I tolerate your presence. I have no love for outsiders or the meddling they oft bring with them. You would do well to remember this while you are here."

"Sometimes it is necessary to meddle," Jaheira informed him, "Else injustices might propagate amongst corrupt men."

Balthazar smoothly pivoted his whole body and tilted his head down towards Jaheira, and I felt her shudder at being dissected by that knife-like stare.

"Indeed. And often times just men lead and outsiders meddle to further their own misguided ends. As the Harpers have done many times in the past. Though they hide their faults well, don't they?"

"We are grateful for your assistance," Keldorn broke in, rescuing Jaheira from the soft yet acute ridicule of the monk, "Though I am wondering at exactly how are you acquainted with Melissan? Old friends perhaps?" The monk now turned just as fluidly towards Keldorn, his face not altering even a tiny bit.

"I am not one for having my affairs pried into, so kindly don't," he turned back to me once again, voice and face stern, "You shall not be granted entry to the monastery while you are here but the rest of the town is open to you. Explore to your content. And so long as you do not interfere with my own personal affairs then we shall not come to grief. Is that understood?"

"I suppose it is," I accepted, not wanting to be his next target for his rude yet polite answers.

"Very well then, here is the map left for you," and he held out a small folded piece of parchment. I hadn't even seen it in his hands when he first emerged from the monastery. He might have plucked it from his pocket but I hadn't seen it. Maybe it was my imagination.

He offered it to me, though honestly, I was somewhat hesitant to take it because of his creepy nature. Not letting my imagination stir up thoughts of silly doubts I tentatively reached out and took it. As my fingers wrapped around it and the single moment before he let go, I at once felt something…a feeling of power and…a…a hole, a vacant spot…inside of this man before me.

Likewise, as I felt something, so Balthazar must have felt something within me, for his face hardened and his eyes began to bore into me even deeper than before. It felt as if we stayed locked that way, hands holding that tiny piece of parchment, our minds reaching out and engaging the other. But a second later I stepped back and everyone around us releasing their breaths as the tension left. Some of it anyway.

"As you can see, neither are too far from here," Balthazar went on, as if he had been unaware of any clash of our will powers a moment before, "A three day journey to either. I would suggest recuperating and resupplying before making the journey. The desert can be harsh if unprepared."

"Thanks for the warning. Before I go, I was wondering as to why such an elaborate monastery is all the way out here in such a small village. Who built it?"

"As I said, my affairs are none of your concern. I do not ask you what reason you travel to these locations so please do not inquire into my business."

"Fair enough," I conceded, "It's your town after all."

"Thank you. I wish you well on your journey, Dietrich Vegaz…for all of our sakes…" and without another word, he bowed, turned and headed back inside his little castle. His entourage followed soundlessly and the moment they had past, the bars of the gate slammed home with a crash, making me wince. So…that was it. Balthazar had come, said some enigmatic things, almost scared me halfway to my grave, and went creeping back inside his hidey-hole. A peculiar meeting. And the encounter hadn't really answered any of my questions. Actually, it had only served to conjure up more. Where had Melissan disappeared to for one thing?

And Balthazar…what a conundrum of a man. I don't believe in coincidences and I felt that there was some reason Melissan had us come to Amkethran. Balthazar was far too unique and extraordinary to just be a simple monk out in the middle of nowhere. His eyes were enough to prove that, as well as what I had felt when we had crossed minds.

Beyond his eyes, his general presence was nearly overwhelming. Calm yet influential, a sense of raw power within him. On the outside, he seemed to possess the tranquil serenity of a true monk, but inside I felt a near perpetual sea of strength and force of will. I could see him as a man of authority, weak-willed individuals would be wholly helpless before his all-encompassing gaze, feeling bound by some unrelenting force to bow before him.

Those were dangerous eyes…


	38. The Conniving Rogue Himself

**Chapter 38: **The Conniving Rogue Himself

"I sensed no evil in him," Keldorn assured me as we left the gates of the monastery behind, "His aura did not feel corrupt or tainted, though I could feel that he possesses great power. I would suggest being wary of him, as I do not think he is a man to cross lightly."

"Boo smelt something funny on him," Minsc informed us, hugging his furry pet close, "Something that made his nose tickle and his fur turn all pointy and sharp. Never have I seen his whiskers quiver so!"

"Well, if even the esteemed Boo could detect something about him," Yoshimo noted with a grin, "Then surely there is something more than what we have seen. Perhaps he is a Bhaalspawn maybe?"

"It's possible…" I pondered, "But I don't know. I felt nothing in him like that. He has incredible strength and willpower, I could feel that, but I didn't sense any Bhaal essence; no desire to murder, no darkness…no emotion at all really. His strength comes from something else it seems like. But I won't rule out the possibility either. For he certainly has the aura of someone powerful enough to be Bhaalspawn."

"Perhaps, but it will be hard to keep an eye on him while he remains locked in that fortress," Jaheira pointed out, with a somewhat sour look, "And his distasteful manner certain mirrors that of Bhaalspawn…some anyway." And she took my arm as she said that.

"I wonder why _you_ didn't like him?" I teased her, to which she rolled her eyes.

We wandered into the town, inspecting what buildings there were, looking for any sort of place to rest for a bit. I wasn't even sure if a town this size had an equivalency of a pub or tavern. Searching yielded what looked to be a ramshackle saloon, a heavy animal pelt serving as the door to the establishment, looking large enough to hold a maximum of eight people. I was debating whether or not I was that thirsty when I heard some shouting around the corner.

"I beg you," a young woman's voice pleaded desperately, "please spare me!"

"Thieving bitch!" barked a harsh grating man's voice, "You think groveling on the ground will excuse you of your crime?"

"A lesson is to be seen here today," now an equally gruff sounding woman chimed in, "as to what happens to brash fools who steal from us."

We poked our heads around the corner to witness a spectacle. Four people stood in the street, having an obvious confrontation. An innocent looking young girl, maybe only eighteen or nineteen, kneeling before two others, tears in her eyes. The two others in question looked like fighters, decked out in standard gear and weaponry of a basic warrior. Their expressions were far from favorable, glowering down at the girl. And off to the side, looking on with frightened eyes was an old man, his skin dark from the harsh sun.

"Please my good soldiers," the wrinkled old fellow begged, "Please show mercy to my foolish daughter! Her actions were in the wrong yes, but her intentions could not be purer!"

"Pure?" the man cast a boiling glare towards him, "What rot! There is no justification of her stealing our hard earned wages Mayor Haraad. She is guilty!"

"Our town is remote and food is hard to come by. Many of the people of the town are starving to death. Asana took your money to buy food and water from the black market in town, and give it to the townsfolk."

"Heartbreaking," the second ruffian shrugged, "But we're not interested in your town's troubles. And we are _not_ a source of financial relief for you. We are here to do a job and get paid for it, and to have that pay stolen from us is inexcusable."

"Your daughter's life is forfeit mayor," the first ruffian growled, "Stealing is a criminal act and she was caught attempting to escape with our gold. Her punishment shall come from our blades."

"Yes she stole, but execution? That is far too harsh a sentence for simple theft!"

"_We_ are the judges of that, old fool. This incident has made a mockery of us and the only way to resolve the matter is with blood."

"No! This isn't right! Please," and the old mayor began to look frantically around, "Is there no one here that will help my daughter? Will no one save her from these brutes who have invaded our village?"

"Hush father," the girl soothed the old man with a level and calm voice, "You waste your strength. The people are far too frightened to act, out of fear of losing their own lives. I must pay for my mistake."

"It is good to see you are resigned to your fate girl," the woman mercenary commented, pulling her sword. "Make peace with whatever god you have Asana," she growled, lifting her blade, "For you go to meet them…now!" And her sword came whistling down, aimed to cleave the young Asana's head in twain. But it ceased its downward arc only a span from the girl's pretty head.

"I'm not fond of thieves myself," I told the startled thuggish woman, standing between the two, my hand clutching her blade as if it were made of wood, "But I'm even less fond of half-baked justice or revenge. Put your sword up and calm down."

"Who the hell are you boy?" the first tough demanded, taking a few threatening steps forward, "Stand aside and be on your way, else you're head will roll as far as hers!"

"Stand aside and watch you two commit murder? No, I don't think so."

"It is not murder," the woman assured me, stepping back and eyeing me up and down, also taking note of my comrades standing close by, "It is punishment."

"Yes, so I heard. But as the good mayor here pointed out, it is a bit extreme. Where I'm from, thievery is punishable by a little jail time, not cutting the thief's head off."

"Hah, as if _that_ would suffice! Our honor has suffered because of this, an insult that will be settled in blood."

"Are you sure it's your _honor_ that you're doing this for?" I asked skeptically, "Are you certain that you're not just being bitter because she managed to steal from you and you are only _now_ noticing and confronting her?"

Their elusive expressions were more than enough answer, they clearing their throats and breaking off eye contact, finding the rocks and dirt around them more fascinating than my well posed question. Hurt pride was what we had here, and I've known others who killed because of less insult.

"Regardless of the reason," the man recovered, shaking his doubts away, "the punishment must be delivered. So I say again, stand down now or you shall share her fate by impeding justice. There is nothing either of you can say to deter us!"

"You're probably right about that," I agreed, "There is nothing _I_ can say…" I reached down, dug about inside my Bag of Holding, and I drew out another cloth bag, bulging and jingling with metallic coins, "But I believe _this_ can." The two soldiers stared at the heavily laden bag, each crisp jingle from within sent a quiver through their armor, and they watched it sway from my hand with a hungry gleam in their eyes. From their looks, I would say that I had sparked their interest.

"Say I was to reimburse you for what was taken? Would that calm you two down?" The two mercenary's glanced at one another, holding a conference. They didn't say anything aloud; they were speaking through their eyes, constantly darting back towards my money holder.

"Perhaps," the man thought, rubbing his jaw, pretending he wasn't really interested, "But you are talking about two…" he caught himself, sending a semi-panicked glance to his partner, before turning back to me, "I mean…uh…four…four thousand, yes…You're talking about _four_ thousand gold here."

"Yes…" the woman didn't miss a beat, jumping in the moment her partner's fumbling was finished, "Not to mention the insult and what this incident will do to our reputation. We could…uh…lose creditability if we were seen letting a thief walk free. Think of the damage to our standing amongst our superiors? I'd say another…thousand…to offset any…inconveniences." I stared at them blankly.

"Grunts like you are being paid that much? Doubtful…"

"We are not your standard dogs for hire," the man assured me, "We have a great _many_ skills that significantly benefit our employer."

"I'll bet. What are you doing? Rubbing his feet?" I looked over at the woman, "Or are you maybe providing services off the battlefield?" She began to blush and cough at that, wavering under my unyielding gaze. I reached into my bag and drew out three small pouches, offering them to the duo.

"Three thousand is what I'll give you. I trust it will suffice?"

"You have a deal my good man," the mercenary woman agreed, taking the pouches. Hastily as well, she didn't even think on it. "Asana, you're free to go. Just be thankful you had such a kind and…" she licked her lips, "wealthy friend watching out for you."

"Yes," the man concurred; though he wasn't looking at the girl, too busy counting his new money, "Why not try stealing from him next time?" And off the two went, rushing back to their quarters no doubt, to divvy up their loot.

"What corruption simple coin can inflict upon people," Keldorn noted, shaking his head, "When will they discover that wealth is hollow and meaningless in the world?"

"Probably never," Jaheira answered, "Monetary value is the only thing most people understand. They cannot comprehend wealth without gold and jewels."

"Yes and I…" my words were cut off as the girl Asana lunged at me, wrapping her arms around me in a gargantuan hug.

"Oh thank you kind sir," she wept, "thank you, thank you! I…they…they would have killed me if you…oh…oh thank you…bless you!"

"Indeed, young man," Mayor Haraad, shakily stepped up, extending a hand, "You have done a truly noble thing for my daughter. If not for your intervention, my Asana would have been killed by those thugs. I have never seen such generosity; I cannot begin to express my gratitude."

"It was nothing," I dismissed, shaking the mayor's hand, "I've witnessed many injustices before, and I'll not let one happen right before my eyes. Though," I looked down at the girl, "You were certainly fortunate that I was around. Many others would not have stepped in to help. Thievery is not looked upon kindly."

"I…I know it was wrong, but the people…the people here have no money, and without provisions, they are slowly starving…And…those brutes are always waving their money around…laughing at us poor folk…Too greedy to part with a single coin…I…I just couldn't help it…"

"Men have stolen for worse reasons young lady;" Keldorn consoled her gently, "Your selfless purpose shows me that not all are tainted by the unshakable vice of riches." She gave a shy smile, before her face jolted in recognition.

"That's right! I should go father, I must speak to the merchants about securing some food and water for the villagers." She started off but paused before turning back one last time. "Thank you my lord, I'll never forget your kindness!" And she went dashing off down the dusty road. The Mayor faced me again.

"My daughter owes you her life…I can never truly repay you for your valor and kindness."

"You'll have to forgive my asking," Yoshimo offered a bow, "But are you truly the young lady's…_ahem_…father? From your appearance, I would have made a guess of…"

"Grandfather or great grandfather?" Haraad coughed out an airy laugh, giving off a tired smile, "The desert is not kind to us my boy. It ages a man far faster than in the more hospitable parts of the world…But its home to us, despite the adversity."

"Don't worry about repaying me," I told him, "I don't do things like this because I'm looking for a reward. It was my pleasure to help. Though I am wondering what hired goons like that are doing so far out here?"

"It is not something we are not supposed to talk about," Haraad hushed his voice, leaning in, "But I cannot simply keep silent after your bravery. Those are not the only ones. There are camps of them around the town. They are all here at Balthazar's request."

"The head monk?" Jaheira pressed, "What use would a monk have for common mercenaries and ruffians such as those?"

"I don't likely know Miss. Balthazar used to care much for the town, overseeing our safety and wellbeing. But lately he has not at all been acting like himself, letting these rough types take over the place, many of them are going into the monastery. It is quite vexing really."

"How many are we talking about here?" I inquired.

"Enough to form a small army I'd say. And word is more are coming. I don't know what we'll do; we have enough hardships in our town as it is, with being hassled by ruffians as well." A small army was the words that meant the most to me. The Five had armies…the Five were unique individuals. And Amkethran was secluded, the perfect place to conduct mischief without being observed. Convientent…

"Thank you for the information," I gave the old mayor a bow, before glancing the direction his daughter had run off, "you'd best go keep an eye on her," I told him, half-jokingly, "Lest she gets into more trouble." He nodded, and began to amble off. As we too turned away, I felt a hand on my arm, and I saw Keldorn, giving me a pleased smile.

"I am pleased by your show of chivalrous generosity, my friend," he confided in me, "to offer assistance such as you did to a mere stranger shows your dedication to the light, and it does much to ease my doubts about the taint within you."

"You know I wouldn't stand by and let something like that happen Keldorn, no matter what darkness I have inside of me. Though I got to admit, I am glad that I was around. Those goons wouldn't have batted an eye in killing her."

"Thievery is no simple task," Yoshimo explained, "One must be cautious of whom to target and when to strike. It is an art that shouldn't be practiced by those that are unskilled at the trade."

"Perhaps so, but maybe you shall take the lesson we have seen today to heart," Keldorn said to our rogue, "Even simple petty crimes can often carry dire, oft time lethal consequences. It is simple better to avoid such paltry larceny in the first place. Banditry is a loathsome offense."

"Well, I do believe that there is a bit of difference between forceful robbing and furtive taking of miscellaneous valuables, but I shall concede to your point, noble paladin."

With the excitement concluded, we were going back the way we had come when we heard men's voices, now out in front of what looked to be the tavern. The tones sounded somewhat hostile.

"What is _with_ this town?" I asked aloud, as we drew closer to the raised voices, "Is everyone having problems today?" It wasn't long before words began to take shape amongst the blur of voices. The first was a grumpy and crabby sounding man. Big surprise…

"You think you can make fools of us and walk away, just like that, eh Esamon?"

"Or perhaps we should just say Saemon Havarian?" added a second, sounding similar to the first, ill-tempered and crusty, "We know all about your alias and your reputation as a two-bit thief and pirate. We want our equipment back now! Refuse and your guts are going to be decorating this here road!" At the mention of _that_ name my ears picked up. It couldn't be…

"Now now," sounded the most suave voice in all of Faerun, as well-oiled and slippery as a slime covered eel, "let us not be hasty here. My business is a humble little operation and I myself have only recently returned to Amkethran, so I'm not sure of you're…ah…situation."

"Save it, you conniving weasel," said the first, "It was _your_ men that swiped our equipment! We know it was them and we know _you're_ their leader so _you're_ gonna answer for it. We want ever bit of our gear back right now!"

"Well…hah ha, as I said, I've only just returned, so I'm not entirely sure as to what you are missing…and…well, there's no guarantee that your…ah…missing items haven't been…purchased by someone else…"

"You'd better hope not! Else we'll be taking our compensation out of your miserable little hide!"

"Oh dear…this is not looking good…" I approached and poked my head around the corner of the building. And much to my exasperation and yet somewhat sadistic glee, I beheld three men. Two of which looked ridiculously similar to the two toughs I had just bribed moments ago, mercenaries wearing standard armor and weapons. But the third…the third…Him…Clad in a dark brown tunic, baked skin and sun-bleached hair, stood the shiftiest scalawag that I had ever encountered. He made Yoshimo look as straight as an arrow by contrast.

"Look Boo," Minsc pointed, peeking his head out as well, "It is the shifty pirate man again! Last time he got us involved with those smelly monkey-men, attacking us on the water! And before he led us into the waiting arms of nasty undead vampires! Ohh, how I hate those damn things! So sinister and blood-sucky!" I myself however, was so pleased at what I saw that I stepped out, and couldn't help but approach the scene.

"I'll be damned," I grinned, yet it was a grin of wicked delight, "I never thought I'd see _you_ again, Saemon Havarian. Your antics stirring up trouble _again_? How completely unsurprising." I'll admit it, I felt tremendous enjoyment, nay, elated pleasure in seeing Saemon's conniving treachery finally catching up to him. As many times as he had scammed me and gotten away with it in the past, the thought of witnessing him getting his comeuppance at long last, in person, was too alluring to pass. At my sudden appearance, all three men stopped and stared. The two tough's squinted at me, somewhat stupid expressions of bewilderment on their faces. Saemon however, after a quick squint of his own, looked excited and joyful.

"By my sea salt stinging eyes," he exclaimed, looking genuinely pleased, "Look who comes walking over from out of nowhere! My old friend Dietrich! How are you my old son, looking as plucky and sharp as ever eh?" I found it amusing that he thought he and I were _friends_ and I couldn't help but notice that he didn't and no doubt wouldn't make any comments on our previous…encounters.

"You know this double-crossing rat boy?" one of the mercenaries eyed me suspiciously.

"Know? Yes, a little _too_ well I'd have to say. You might even say I've had the misfortune on meeting him _several_ times."

"Hah ha hah!" Saemon chuckled, stepping over and slapping me on the arm, "Ah, my old friend, you've always been the comical jester of jokes. You see here," Saemon went on to the two fighters, gesturing to me, "Is a real gentleman of honor and heroics. And," he turned back to me, flashing an overly cheerful grin that did not sit right with me, "as it so happens, your arrival is quite fortuitous. I regret to say that I'll be needing that equipment I sold you yesterday to return to these fine upstanding men."

At once I cursed my own stupidity…I had been so excited to see Saemon squirm that…no, damn-it I had walked right into it…

"_You_ bought our stuff?!" one of the toughs growled at me, advancing and looking me up and down.

"Yeah," the second concurred, "Actually, that stuff he's got looks awfully familiar…If I didn't know better, those are my boots he's got on…"

"Yes yes," Seamon concurred heartily, "I'm sure they do. Dietrich here was missing some equipment just yesterday as it was, as adventurers these days loose their gear left and right, and he needed a few new items…"

"Havarian," I warned him with a growl, "If you're doing what I _think_ you're doing, then you're going to be…"

"And naturally I had no idea whose items they were and I'm afraid I sold them. But now that he's here, we get this little matter cleared up and be on our way."

"I think you'd best be givin' our things back boy," the merc's were advancing like rabid wolves, "Lest we got ta get violent with ya!"

"Well," Saemon glanced between the two livid thugs and my own enraged expression, "This is something I'll let you gentlemen sort out…" And he began to gingerly slink away. I wasn't about to let him slip off after duping me yet again and made a move to seize the pirate, with intents of breaking his scrawny form in half, but one of the toughs stepped in front of me, his glower unsightly.

"My apologies Dietrich," Saemon gave me a sheepish wave as he kept backing away, "But…well, I'm sure you understand…" And the devious sneak went tearing off around the corner of the tavern, vanishing, leaving me with two red-faced thugs

"Why that conniving…"

"Are yer gonna give oun stuff back runt, or will we have ta take if off yer corpse?" I only glared back at them.

"Will you gullible saps beat it? You can't even tell that you've been conned by the most…" I was still talking when one yanked his blade free and made a wild swing.

The sword came down at me, and though harmless it was, my ire had risen quite exponentially and I was in no mood to take nonsense from some bombastic ruffian who thought he could push anyone he pleased around with threats. My hand darted up and snagged him by the wrist, clamping down on him, holding his attack at bay whilst I glowered right into his startled face.

"Get…lost…" I growled at him, before jerking his hand with a twist. It was my intension of making him simply lose his grip, dropping his weapon and I was a bit surprised when there came a audible and winching crack, as the man's hand twisted almost the other way round, making him lose both his sword and his feet.

"Ahhhhhh! My hand!" he bawled, clutching at his wrist. He writhed in the dirt, babbling aloud, his partner wearing a look mixed between terrified and bewildered. He caught my eyes and I merely gave my head a toss, gesturing away from me. The goon helped his injured comrade to his feet and went hobbling off, the wounded man still whimpering.

"Was it _really_ necessary to break his wrist?" Jaheira asked me skeptically, "You could have merely asked to leave you be and walk away. I thought you had more restraint than that."

"I didn't mean to," I told her, puzzled myself, "I just wanted him to drop the sword…I didn't think I put _that_ much effort into it…"

"It is done," Sarevok said, "It will keep the fools at a distance from hereon. And what of the pirate brother, who so easily fooled you? Do you wish to pursue him? I sensed that you had a great desire to see him suffer."

"A pointless effort, I'm afraid," Yoshimo told him with a grin, "the esteemed Saemon Havarian has a remarkable knack for disappearing from hostile situations, leaving no trace and not be seen again for lengthy periods of time."

"When I get my hands on him," I growled aloud, "I'm going to wring his worthless weasely little neck…"


	39. Two Choices

**Chapter 39:** Two Choices

"Abazigal and Sendai," I noted aloud, saying the names, contemplating. Such simple arrangements of letters, yet they foretold so much dread and uncertainty for me.

"What was that?" Jaheira murmured, rolling over to face me, scooting over to join me on my pillow. We both lay in bed, our clothes and equipment discarded in haphazard heaps across the cold stone floor. We had returned to my plane instead of taking up residence in the village's local inn, which looked to have enough room to accommodate all of three people. Not only that, I was still quite steamed over my third and most definitely unwelcome encounter with the shadiest most scurvy rat every to float across a large body of water. And with blood that had a tendency to override my better judgment coursing through my veins, having pent up anger was not wise.

Thankfully, Jaheira aided me with that, suggesting that I channel my passionate anger into something more…constructive and shall we say…relaxing. We returned to my dimensional haven and once alone in my room, we engaged in the…therapy. Whether or not it _was_ constructive, I can't say, but it was relaxing, oh yes. Allowing time for sleep, or in my case, reflection, which I sometimes have a tendency to do aloud.

"I was just weighing my options out in front of me," I explained, "There are two of them out there, Abazigal and Sendai. I was…well, I was wondering which of them we should go after first." One of Jaheira's eyebrows rose as she looked back at me, before smiling and shaking her head.

"There are forces set in motion by the heavens themselves, that could change the very realms down to their foundations and forever alter history, and _this_ is what you worry about?"

"Oh is it so easy?" I challenged her, sitting up, returning her rueful smile, "Then why doesn't the all-knowing druid offer her sagely advice on this trifling matter?"

"We know next to nothing about either," she recalled, "their race or army size, they are about equal distance from Amkethran, and they both pose the same level of threat. I do not see a single factor that places one above the other in importance."

"So should we flip a coin?" I asked her, grinning, "I didn't know you like to leave such things up to chance."

"Usually no, but I fail to see how one may outweigh the other in importance. In stopping either, you will save lives and bring this chaos closer to its end. And furthermore, when doubts press down upon you it is best not to dwell on the smallest of them. You have enough worries on your mind without obsessing over each and every tiny detail."

I nodded, knowing the wisdom of her words rung true, then I gently reached around, draping my hand through her soft auburn hair, pulling her closer for a kiss.

"Thank you," I whispered, "I think I needed to hear that." She gave me this soft smile which made me feel so much better and we both laid down again. Though I found myself awake still, my mind now free of the choice I had to make, but now preoccupied by other things…more…sinister things. It seemed that I was not the only one who was wakeful.

"Something else seems to trouble you my love," Jaheira broke the silence, somewhat surprising me; I had assumed she had merely gone back to sleep. I lifted my head as she snuggled closer to me, running her hand through my own glossy dark locks. "You've been dwelling on something, I have seen it. What troubles you?" I opened my mouth ready to speak to my lover of what ailed me, but the haunting images descended and…I…

"No…" I shook my head, "it's nothing; I guess I'm a little tired, that's all." Even as I spoke those words, I knew that Jaheira wasn't going to buy it. One of the things I loved about her was her perceptive sense of self and others. Except at times like this. And credit to my own intuition, Jaheira pushed the soft cotton blanket off of us, ignoring the fact that neither of us was clothed, sat up and looking at me.

"If your lying has always been this bad, than somehow I get the thought that you never got away with any sort of mischief as a child."

"Oh boy," I laughed, "You don't know even the half of it." She sat and waited, looking at me plainly. She was waiting for me to speak. So I did.

"What…what were your…parents like?"

"My parents? What have they to do with you?" Now it was my turn to sit and wait, returning a straight stare. She didn't understand why I asked my question and it puzzled her. Finally, she relented.

"I've told you before; I was born to a noble house in Tethyr during the civil war and my parents died during it. Afterwards I was taken in by a band of druids and was raised following the ways of nature…Why, what is this about?"

"Nobles? So…" I was quiet, before shrugging and turning away, wishing we could end the conversation. "…Ah, nevermind, it's nothing." But before I could face the wall and dismiss the conversation, she had shifted, crawling on top of me, pinning me, her face only inches from mine. She was as stubborn as I was.

"No, I will not just nevermind and forget it. What is wrong, tell me!"

"You know," I grinned, my eyes traveling along her lovely body, "If someone saw us like this, what would they think?" Jaheira glanced down at herself, then at me again, before trying her best to stifle her own laughter and hold on to her air of seriousness.

"Gods, sometimes you have the maturity of a child! Do not think you will distract me with that sort of talk! Now…why did you ask about my parents?" I sighed, knowing I wasn't going to get out of this and that it would just be better to speak.

"It's just…though you didn't know your parents too long; they were still normal, everyday people. It's just…I wouldn't know anything about that." She gave me this funny stare as I said that, as if I was out of my gourd.

"You are acting so aloof just because it troubles you that Bhaal is your father?" I tried to muster a laugh at that, but all that came out was a sigh.

"Bhaal…if it was _just_ Bhaal, I doubt I'd care but…I'm _not_ just talking about Bhaal." At that, Jaheira's face changed. She had been scrutinizing me but now a shadow of shock crossed her features. I did not fail to notice it.

"You mean…?" she pressed, to which I nodded.

"I do. I learned that my mother was a half-fanatical priestess of Bhaal, whose sole purpose in having me was simply to kill me and bring her psychotic god back from the dead."

"Where did you hear that?"

"Back when I had killed Illasera, I lost consciousness and when I woke up, I was here…" I gestured a hand to the pocket plane around us. "And that's when I met…I don't know, a celestial being or something, a solar I think. She said she was a servant of the gods and she began speaking to me of my destiny and such. And when I killed Yaga-Shura, the same thing happened, which was why I was unconscious when you all found me. I zoned out and I woke up here, she having drawn me back and told me that if I was to have a future then I needed to know more about my past. And all of these shadows of my history began appearing, and I got a pretty descriptive account of my earliest of years."

"How descriptive do you mean?"

"My mother's name was Alianna, a disciple of Bhaal. She and other followers of the God of Murder where all set to murder us, his children, when Gorion and some Harper friends of his attacked the temple, where Gorion killed my mother and escaped with me, even as other children died."

"And this…solar thought it better for you to know such things?"

"You knew?" I asked her, but I was neither surprised nor even upset. Just because I was the only one who had been left in the dark about it, that didn't mean that everyone else didn't know. Jaheira and Khalid had been friends of Gorion, and Harpers, who knew much about many many things, it seemed only natural that Jaheira had known more about me than she was telling. She seemed hesitant to answer my question, but finally she nodded.

"Yes. I had never met her myself but Gorion had spoken of it, though it took much prying on my part for him to reveal it. He was clearly upset by the whole affair. He had made mention to me however that it was something that he didn't wish for you to find out…at least not for a good while. Something that…sinister can severely damage a young mind."

"It can damage a mature mind too," I informed her. She cocked her head, perhaps understanding. "I just…don't know how I'm supposed to feel. She was going to murder me just to bring Bhaal back, but she was _still_ my mother. And Gorion, who was really a total stranger…he killed her. Am I such a monster now that I feel no hatred or loathing towards the man who wasn't even related to me, who slew my mother?"

"I believe that is an unfair question for you Dietrich. When a woman gives birth to a child, they receive the title of mother, yet that is not what makes them so. Mothers are nurturing, kind, understanding, willing to give their own lives for that of their children out of love. A woman who feels none of this towards their own child is naught but a child-bearer, one who births a child and then leaves it. Such a person has no right to be called a mother, nor should the child feel such distraught over their death. Doubly so if the child-bearing woman only sought to murder their child. Such an evil act does not deserve pity or remorse."

I listened and even though it still bothered me, I knew what Jaheira was saying was right. My mother had seen me as nothing more than a device to bring back Bhaal. But Gorion, an unfamiliar person who had merely seized one child from the temple and ran…he had raised me. He didn't need to; he could have dumped me off at some lonely farmer's house, going about his business, not letting himself be dragged into things any further. Instead he opted to care for and protect me. That was something a _true_ parent did for their child. Hearing another say so was what I needed and brooding over the matter was doing me no good. So I did what I knew I needed to. I dismissed it.

"Ah, I know I'm just dwelling again; after all it doesn't matter," I shrugged it off, "Regardless of the reasoning for it, it's just another fact of the past and I should just leave it behind with the bones and dust."

"It _does_ matter," Jaheira insisted, "it was an important part of your life…"

"That is as shrouded in blood and death as the rest of it."

"An _important_ part of your life," she repeated patiently, "Despite being unpleasant, it set you on the path to your future."

"A future that is looking more and more bleak." Jaheira sighed at that.

"Your downtrodden attitude is so encompassing that you don't see the other side of things. You have two choices before you. You either fall to the same evil that your mother and many of your siblings have and become just as Bhaal was. And in doing so you would be near fanatical to accomplish your twisted duty. Or…" she leaned in, kissing me, her hands reaching around me to hold me tightly, "Or you can be the man I _know_ you are and walk away from such dark corrupting power to lead a life of your own." I held her, my arms keeping her close.

"A life with you?" She gave me a smile and I all but melted before it. Gods, she was beautiful.

"That is what I wish, yes. But first we must weather these turbulent tides of your destiny and put these matter of the heaven's to rest for good. Only when the these matters are settled once and for all, then plans for then future…our future may be crafted."

"You know…" I took her shoulders and began to gently ease her down, rolling on top of her and pinning her to the bed, grinning all the while, "I find your sense of sensibility quite sensual. Why is it that you have such sagacity?"

"I have it because I must be sensible for the both of us. You have about as much wisdom as a cluster of stones."

"Ooo," I teased her, leaning down, "You're going to pay for that."

---

---

---

When her eyes opened once more, Jaheira was staring at the ceiling, her body telling her that she had slept enough. She rose, stretching herself and glancing over at her lover. She wouldn't have been shocked to see him awake, a look of deep contemplation across his face, mired in his thoughts. But surprisingly enough he was asleep.

She had seen that peaceful look of slumber before. Dietrich hadn't been sleeping much she knew, staying awake just to stare into campfires, tossing and turning on his bedroll. As a being of nature, Jaheira was quite worried and somewhat frightened by that. All creatures require sleep, including Bhaalspawn. The fact that he seemed to need it less and less warned her of something unnatural or inhuman, perhaps slowly invading Dietrich and transforming him into something…dark. But worry or no, when she looked at him, mired deep in slumber, his face somewhat comical in its tranquil stillness, she felt relief and satisfaction.

Sliding quietly out of the bed as to not disturb Dietrich, she hunted the massive pile of equipment and garments scattered across the floor, which had been hastily shed the previous evening, gathering up the basic necessities of clothing. She dressed quickly and slipping out of the bedroom, easing the door closed as gingerly as she could. All at once her mind had a sensation of familiarity; that of a mother having just put their child to sleep and was easing away. The though brought a glow to her cheeks as she started down the hall. _Perhaps some day_, she thought, _I hope…_

The others were all present, gathered about the elongated dining table, which was littered with all sorts of dishes and peculiar looking things that may have been food. The cheerful imp Cespenar was circling about, humming happily and ensuring the table was constantly full of foods and beverages. Jaheira joined them, sliding into an empty seat, brushing loose strands of hair from her eyes, nodding to them all.

"Good morning," Jaheira greeted, still trying to combat the persistent effects of sleepiness.

"Afternoon I believe," Keldorn told her smiling, "But a good morning and good afternoon to you nonetheless."

"And yet at such a later hour you are alone?" Yoshimo gave her a coy smile, "Where is our fearless leader? Worn down by your tireless advances, yes?"

"Your wit and charm are as refreshing as always," Jaheira snorted, before reaching for something that looked like a purple squash.

"Dorrik will be quite tired, Boo says. He heard him late into the night, making funny groaning noises…Minsc was quite worried and was ready to kick his door down and rush to his aid, lest sinister evil villains were attacking! But Boo told Minsc to stay put, though he would not say as to why."

"I am relieved that your hamster restrained you," Jaheira's face tinted a bit red.

"As am I," Yoshimo heartily agreed, grinning madly all the while, his expression betraying the fact that he found the concept quite amusing, "That would have left many in a, shall we say, embarrassing situation."

"That's enough," Keldorn sternly interjected to those gathered about the table, "Did none of you ever learn proper manners? Asking a lady such questions…Jaheira's and Dietrich's relationship is a private matter between the two of them only, and they don't need others commenting on it."

"And what _of_ our fearless leader?" Sarevok callously asked from his end of the table, "Is he still lazing about? Or is he sulking about being duped by the thief?"

"If you must know," Jaheira shot him a foul look, "he is indulging in some much needed sleep, as the longer this affair drags on, the less he seems to find peace of mind to rest."

"Are you certain it is the pressures of the upcoming battles and not the grip of Bhaal tightening around him further?"

At the mere mention of _that_ name, the humor faded from the table, the direness of the situation began to descend once more.

"Much has happened since he began on this path," Sarevok continued, "Including the absorption of Bhaal's essence. Has he made any mention to the growing taint within himself?"

"Oh must we get into this conversation every time you open your mouth?" Jaheira snapped at the hulking giant, "Is there nothing going on in your mind that does revolve around carnage or Bhaalspawn?" Sarevok flashed his shark grin, making Jaheira shudder and glance away.

"Yes, but in the midst of this chaotic time, to be distracted by frivolous and trivial matters can have lethal consequences."

"The same can be said for dwelling on a problem too deeply," Keldorn countered, "Many a time, one must step back from a dilemma, and observe progression of things so that a wise course of action may be ascertained."

"Is that truly a luxury we can afford? Armies march and cities burn…is now for the time of dawdling speculation and observation? That time has long since past; now we must act before our enemies move on us first. To be squeamish on these matters now will see our swift defeat and a violent end."

"Minsc hates to say it," Minsc nodded, feeding Boo who sat on his shoulder some bread crusts, "but Sarevok is right! We have done enough scuttling about, running from enemies. Now is to time to find them, so Boo might have their eyes and my boots their backsides! Evil has had enough victories; now it is time for our righteousness to seek them out and smash them into small pieces, and then perhaps smashing those pieces into even smaller pieces. And then…well, maybe those small pieces will be enough."

"Thank you for your support," Sarevok rolled his gleaming eyes, "The motivating words of a madman are just what this group needs."

"You are most welcome," Minsc was beaming, obviously not noting the sarcasm, "Minsc may not be as smart as Boo, but even I know that the time for watching is over and it is now the time for swords and hammers and axes and anything else that can mangle villainy. And mangle we will!" He rose up, thrusting a fist into the air, Boo retaining his normal hamster countenance all the while.

"A most inspiring speech, my friend," Yoshimo applauded, "And with comes next for our group, there is sure to be much evil mangling for all of us."

"Perhaps and perhaps not," Jaheira told him, "There might be a chance to negotiate with the three remaining Bhaalspawn, to make them see that their actions are meaningless and to try and agree…"

Jaheira was cut off by a chilling sound; deep dark laughter, originating from the end of the table. Sarevok was having a substantial chuckle.

"Truly?" he asked her, his own smile sinister and cruel, "You believe that those remaining Bhaalspawn will be open to reasoning? That they shall abandon their quest and adopt the sort of vagabond life as Dietrich has?" He paused, as if waiting for an answer. However, he continued on before anyone gave one. "Bah, they are as deranged as the rodent-speaking ranger and surrender is something they would never submit to. They seek the power of a god; that is something that no mortal can be dissuaded from. And regardless, even if they _could_ be talked down, willing to see your pacifistic drivel, the ending result would still be the same…Bhaal intended for us to all die and in the end, we shall. Either they will slay Dietrich or they will die and become stains upon his blades."

"I do not believe that," Jaheira insisted, glaring darkly at behemoth seated down the table, "Dietrich does not solve every situation with violence, in fact, he attempts to solve as many problems as he can as peacefully as possible. He is not the ruthless butcher that _you_ are."

"You are naïve. Dietrich cannot escape it, no matter how sympathetic he may be. Even when he saves a city or rescues someone from peril, he ends up killing. His purpose, be it good or evil, makes no difference. Bhaal was the Lord of Murder…and murder is what we Bhaalspawn do…for whatever reason it may be for. Death is something we cannot escape."

"Are we to take _your_ word on that?" she shot back, "You who kill for the sheer savage delight in it? Just because it is something that _you_ are incapable of, that doesn't mean that Dietrich is as well. When we worked to see your malicious schemes undone, we helped many people, something you know nothing about, and Dietrich made an effort to escape violence whenever and however he could."

"And yet during that quest…how many died?" his yellow eyes glimmering, "Dismantling my plans and wandering across the Sword Coast, how many fell to him? His goal of stopping me was a force of good, yet death came of it. Those that feared me more then him who chose to fight and to die to ensure my plans succeeded, monsters that wander the land in addition to the occasional bandit and bounty-hunter. How many of those encounters ended with something _other_ than death?"

"Why pin such behavior upon Bhaalspawn alone?" Yoshimo inquired, "Even us normal folks must solve many problems with taking lives. We do not wish to, but oft times others give little choice. We may be rational and lenient, but the rest of the world is not quite so reasonable and insist that death be the answer."

"But with Bhaalspawn is it a certainty. It is not something Dietrich can control, no matter how much he wants too. It is the calling of his blood, he has no choice."

"Everyone has a choice in their life Sarevok," Keldorn informed him somberly, "Even you."

"Indeed. And I made mine. I chose to break the shackles of my foster father, strived to gain power in the world and setting my sights to the heaven's themselves by taking Bhaal's place."

"And what did you gain from all of you schemes and plans?"

"Aside from death…? Knowledge. Power. A better understanding of our divine heritage. A rebirth. More than most can claim to have achieved. I walked the path that I was ordained to follow, nothing more."

"Do not pin all the blame squarely on your cursed blood," the old paladin reproached him, "The gods _do_ have a say in what happens to us all, but men have the ability to alter their destiny by their personal choices. You did not have to be as you are; you could have walked any path you chose, not allowing yourself to be dictated by the murdering blood that runs within you."

"You speak of choices," the hulking former Bhaalspawn all but spat back, "yet you do not understand what it is like. To have a compulsion, an urge that is within you to your very bones, pulling you to follow a certain path…" Then he paused, his eyes loosing the tiniest fraction of their previous shine. Finally he shrugged.

"But I suppose I am unsure, as I never _tried_ to resist the impulse to kill, as Dietrich seems to have. And if it is possible to curve such desires, then for all I know, you are right, that the choices I made up until now were my own and not the calling in my blood. But it is irrelevant; can I turn away from who I am and who I was born to be? Perhaps but unlikely, yet even more important, whether I attempt to change who I am now or not is ultimately meaningless. After all, I am beside the point; Dietrich is who all of you are worried about; not I. And I believe that he too has a choice. To cower from the strength and power in his blood, trying to escape its grasp or to embrace it, accept it, which would enable him to rise up to the ranks of the gods themselves."

"I had no idea I was such a fascinating subject of conversations…"

Everyone turned about, and there leaning against the door to the hallway was Dietrich, fully garbed and armed, raven hair a bit disheveled and a coy smile on his mouth as he surveyed his group.

---

---

---

My presence known, I left my hiding spot, stepping out and joined my comrades.

"Quite the heated argument," I noted, "Do you all do this when I'm not around?"

"Ah, so our leader arrives at last," Yoshimo greeted with a bow, "We were worried that your activities from the previous evening would leave you in no shape to join us at such an early hour."

"Me?" I asked jokingly, "The all powerful Bhaalspawn? Nothing can stop me! Not even the unquenchable might of nature's warrior." At that, Jaheira's face deepened to a darker shade, turning an evil eye up at me. I returned it with a sunny grin. "Morning," I sat down, kissing her cheek. No doubt she was already plotting on how I was going to make this up to her.

"So," she glared at me, clearing her throat and trying to hide her blush, "Have you made your decision? Have you chosen which enclave to search for first?"

"Nope," I answered, just as Cespenar place several dishes down in front of me, "Before we do that, we…_I_ have something important to do."


End file.
